


The Bad Boy of Winterfell

by Janina



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark!Jon, Did I just really put motorcyles as a tag?, F/M, Motorcycles, Not sure if he's actually all that dark, Not yet anyway?, Slow Burn, Smut, Why?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-23 21:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12516692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: based on a prompt by asongforjonsa who wanted Dark!Jon. Her prompt was: Jonsa in high school, Jon is in a biker gang a la 'leader of the pack' and Sansa is the good girl that falls for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asongforjonsa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asongforjonsa/gifts).



> He's not necessarily in a biker gang, but I think asongforjonsa will forgive me that. I hope.  
> This was supposed to be a one shot, but then the ideas kept coming so maybe a three shot. We'll see.

Sansa Stark had heard all about Jon Snow long before she’d even seen him. He was The Bad Boy ™ in Wintertown, the one who had cops constantly chasing him on his big black motorcycle, but was never actually stopped. Rumor had it he disappeared in a plume of exhaust fumes. 

According to her friend Jeyne, he had gotten five girls pregnant in one night during an orgy….or a fivesome (?) - Sansa wasn’t sure what it was called, only that it sounded salacious and made her blush. 

Supposedly, he’d also gotten a girlfriend, Ygritte Wilde, who was The Bad Girl™ of Wintertown. She was apparently one of the girls he’d knocked up, but then she’d gone and taken care of it. They were the King and Queen of Wintertown- well, at least among the teenagers, because they were teenagers, too. 

They were feared by adults. No parent wanted their kid messed up with either of them, but the two of them together? Forget it. They smoked, they drank, they gave the middle finger to rules and authority. To hang out with them meant your kid was doomed to fail in life - to end up loners and losers just like them and to probably one day end up on the most wanted list. 

Sansa was curious about Jon - curious about how much of the stories were true. Did Jon Snow _really_ get five girls pregnant in one night? Did he _really_ carry a knife with him “just in case”? Was his father _really_ in prison? 

Everyone wanted to know these things, so it wasn’t like she was alone. But she was probably the only one who wanted to know and yet didn’t want to find out by getting too close to him. Someone like that was bound to be a creep who probably made lewd comments to women and then got angry with them when they weren’t received well. 

No, thanks. 

Sansa was a good girl. She was what her younger sister Arya called an overachiever. She got it from her older brother Robb, who was three years ahead of her and in high school had been class president for four years, on the debate team, President of the Young Democrats Club, plus did track and baseball. He’d gotten a scholarship to Dorne University for track, and was kicking ass in all his classes there, too. 

So, Sansa felt as though she had to follow in his footsteps because, well, she looked up to her brother. And she loved her parents and wanted to make them proud. She wanted to be a doctor, and with her grades and extracurriculars (Habitat for Humanity, Agents for Change, and Amnesty International), she was on the right path.  
She didn’t even date. She didn’t have _time_. Harry Hardyng, who was part of Habitat for Humanity with her was going to ask her out any day now, Sansa was pretty sure about that the way he kept flirting and wanting to join all the activities she did...but Sansa didn’t want to waste time dating someone unless she was over the moon for them. And she was not over the moon for Harry. 

Jeyne thought she was nuts. Margaery thought she should do what she wanted. 

Then, one day, the news came: Jon Snow was kicked out of Wintertown High School for telling some teacher to fuck off and die before punching him, and so now he was starting at Winterfell High. 

Sansa attended Winterfell High, and the day Jon Snow was to start, the halls were abuzz with excitement. It was so palpable she could feel it. It made her skin feel as though it was humming. As a result, she caught some of the excitement as well. 

When she came up to her locker, Margaery and Jeyne were there waiting for her. 

“Oh my God, can you believe it? He starts today! The legendary Jon Snow!” Jeyne squealed. “I saw him once, you know. He’s fucking hot.”

Margaery rolled her eyes. “Yeah, where was that again? At McDonalds? I’m sorry, but no. Jon freaking Snow does not go to _McDonalds_.”

Jeyne’s brown eyes flashed fire when she looked at Margaery. “Are you saying you think Jon Snow is above McDonalds? Are you saying I lied?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Jeyne tossed her mousy brown hair over her shoulder and shook her head. “Whatever.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Margaery said and came up beside Jeyne, throwing a slender arm about her shoulder. She batted her long lashes at Jeyne. “Forgive me, sweetums?”

Jeyne nudged her away, but laughed. 

Sansa shook her head and attempted to get into her locker. She wasn’t having much luck though. She was barely cognizant of a hush falling over the hall as she tried again to get her combination right. She wasn’t like other students who just had it set all the time. That was a recipe for disaster, so she insisted on doing the combination each time. 

Jeyne nudged her hard, causing her hand to slip. 

“Hold on, I’m trying to get my locker open!” Sansa hissed and reset the combination back to zero. 

“Sansa, he’s _here._ Would you _look_?”

She turned her head just in time to see him sauntering down the hall as though he owned the place. If Jeyne had seen him, and Sansa had her doubts as well, then she was right. He _was_ hot. He was what one pictured in their head when they pictured a bad boy. His black hair was long, down to his shoulders, and curly. He had it pulled back in a man bun. He had a beard, but it was trimmed close to his face. His lips were full, almost Khloe Kardashian full, and he had an unlit cigarette between them. He wore black boots, dark skinny jeans, a black shirt, and a leather jacket. 

Okay, so his appearance was a bit of a cliche, but black leather jackets, black boots, and even the cigarette were sort of part of the Bad Boy Kit weren’t they?

Then their eyes met and though time didn’t slow down and “Dream Weaver” didn’t start up in the background while Jon Snow was framed with stars, there was a jolt that went through her when his gray eyes met hers. 

But then the bell rang and she had a locker to open, and homeroom to get to so she turned away from him. Jeyne and Margaery were squealing behind her and asking her what she thought.

“I need to get my locker open,” she said irritably. “And get to homeroom. That’s what I think.”

They wandered off and Sansa was glad for the silence. 

xxxxxxx

Sansa didn’t catch sight of Jon Snow again for the rest of the morning. She heard about him from her friends at lunch. Margaery had study hall with him and Jon had supposedly just read a book the whole time. When Sansa asked what book, Margaery looked at her like she had seven heads. Jeyne had Calculus with him: “All he did, was sit there and _glare_. It was scary as _fuck_. And hot, too.”

Sansa looked at her as though she had seven heads. 

“Calm down,” Margaery said warningly. “His girlfriend put some girl in the hospital after coming on to him.”

All anyone could talk about was Jon Snow. Her friend Sam had History with him. Arya told her in the hall that Jon’s locker was across the hall from hers. Everyone was talking about him, and when they did, it was as though having a class with him made them important, raising them to the same celebrity status as he was. It was a bit weird...and she was starting to feel a bit left out. 

Until last period English when she walked in and there he was. 

He was sitting in the back in the middle aisle and the three desks around him were empty. There were people eyeing him, and people so very obviously whispering about him. Sansa felt sorry for him. Despite the fact that he was all anyone could talk about, a living legend to them, no one wanted to get close to him. 

And, well, she was on that list. 

But she had no choice now. So, she could either sit next to him or in front of him. 

She chose in front of him. 

She smiled when he looked up at her from whatever he was writing in the notebook on his desk. It was the kind of smile one bestowed on strangers they passed in the street or acquaintances in the hall. Just a quick, automatic smile of acknowledgment. He did not smile back. 

Sansa placed her bag on her chair and took out two pens and a notebook and placed them on the desk. Then she placed her bag under her desk, making sure the strap did not lay out in the aisle and trip anyone. She opened her notebook, wrote the date and then sat back, making sure to pull her ponytail over her shoulder so that it lay against her chest. Her auburn hair was long and currently up in a ponytail. Sometimes the person sitting behind her complained it still hit their desk and got in the way. Sansa did not want to give Jon Snow any reason at all to complain. Or talk to her. 

She found she was nervous nonetheless, though she wasn’t sure why. Shouldn’t he be the nervous one being at a new school, and especially considering the reasons _why_ he was here? 

She frowned when she felt her ponytail being dragged back to fall behind her. She turned slightly in her seat and looked at Jon who was smirking at her. “Get your locker open this morning, Red?” he asked. 

He’d heard that? “Yes, I did. Thank you,” she said and turned back around, dragging her hair back towards her front. 

He dragged it back and she turned in her seat again. “Can I help you with something?”

He smiled. “Yeah, you can tell me about the English teacher. He good?”

Sansa nodded. “Yes. Mr. Seaworth is very good. He expects you to work hard and as long as you do, he doesn’t give you any problems.”

Jon sat back and assessed her in a way that made Sansa blush. “I bet you work hard.”

She made a face, tilting her head to the side. “That sounded a bit lewd, and that’s not my style.”

He chuckled softly and sat up, leaning forward a bit. “I didn’t mean to make it sound that way, but I can see how it might have. I just meant you seem like the type to work very hard.”

“You figured that out in all of two minutes?”

“Well, when you came in, you set out your notebook and two pens. I’m assuming the second pen is in case you run out of ink or something and need a backup. You don’t want to take the time to look for another one, so you prepared enough to have one handy. Then you stuffed your bag under the desk and you were very careful about not letting the strap lay out in the aisle.” He took a deep breath. “And then there’s your outfit. You look like you have a meeting of the Young Republicans after school.”

She looked down at herself. She was wearing black pants, a soft pink silky blouse, and a black cardigan. “I’m a Democrat, and I do not belong to the Young Democrats Club. I do have work after school though at my father’s office and I like to look professional.”

Jon snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Let me guess - lawyer. Your Dad, that is.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes. Good guess.”

“You’ve got money.” He made it sound like a bad thing. 

She frowned. “We do well. Am I supposed to be ashamed of that because you make it sound like I should be.”

Jon sat back and shrugged. “Nah. I mean, it’s cool. It must be nice to have someone to throw money at your problems to make them go away.”

That got her back up. “My father would not ‘throw money’ at my problems, especially if I created them. He would make me take responsibility for my own actions as anyone should.”

He smirked. “Did I strike a nerve?” 

“I don’t like it when people make assumptions about me. Especially when they don’t know me. And especially by someone with a reputation like yours.”

“Ah, but you see there, Red, you just made assumptions about me, too. All those rumors you’ve heard about me - you don’t even know if they’re true or not.”

“Are they?”

“What have you heard?” he drawled. “I can confirm that I once sent a girl a pig’s heart as a Valentine’s Day gift.”

Sansa wrinkled her nose. “Really?”

He laughed. “No.”

She rolled her eyes and turned around. 

He flipped her ponytail with his pen. “Hey, Red.”

“I have a name,” she said and turned her face to the side. “It’s Sansa.”

“Sansa,” he repeated softly. “Pretty name.”

“Thanks.”

“You know, it’s rude not to look at someone when they’re talking to you.”

“Then I won’t talk to you,” she said simply, and was quite happy when Mr. Seaworth entered the classroom and class began.


	2. Chapter 2

“I had class with him,” Sansa announced to Jeyne and Margaery. They had decided through group text to go down to Winterfell House of Pizza in the evening, a spot all the high school kids frequented regularly. “He sat right behind me.”

Jeyne and Margaery leaned forward, their eyes wide. “And?” Jeyne urged. “Did you talk to him?”

“I did,” Sansa said nonchalantly. “He’s kind of an ass.”

“Well, I mean, isn’t that kind of built in with being The Bad Boy?” Margaery pointed out. 

“I guess,” Sansa sighed. “I just didn’t really appreciate being judged by the fact that my father is an attorney.”

“Okay, why don’t we start from the top?” Jeyne asked. “What exactly was said? And I’m going to need you to be thorough here. That includes inflections.”

Sansa inwardly rolled her eyes. Only Jeyne would need to know all the minute details, right down to the inflections of their voices. It was exhausting. 

She relayed it all to them, not bothering to admit that she did in fact remember each detail of their encounter quite well and could still hear Jon Snow’s voice rumbling in her ear. 

Both Jeyne and Margaery frowned thoughtfully as they sat back. Margaery started to tap her fingernails on the table. Jeyne twisted her mouth the way she did when she was thinking hard about something. 

“So he’s not keen on rich people,” Jeyne said. 

“Most poor people aren’t,” Margaery pointed out. 

Sansa furrowed her brow. “How do you know he’s poor?”

Margaery rolled her eyes and looked at Jeyne. “You wanna take this one?”

Jeyne nodded and looked at Sansa authoritatively. “Sansa, it stands to reason that if he hates rich people then he must be poor--”

“He could be middle class,” Sansa pointed out. 

Jeyne and Margaery shook their heads. 

“And,” Margaery said, “It goes along with the bad boy persona. The Bad Boy is always poor, and he always hates rich people. It’s just the way it goes.”

“That’s stupid and illogical. Not every bad boy has to be poor. Have you seen the cost of leather jackets? Those suckers are expensive.”

“Thrift stores,” Jeyne said. 

Sansa sighed. She gave up. 

And then Jon walked on in. He was followed by three boys, or maybe men, a couple of them looked a bit older. However, that could have just been hard livin’. Regardless, all except one had dark hair and looked, well, pissed off. Including Jon. 

“Is it a bad boy thing to always look angry?” Sansa asked and looked away from Jon to look at her friends. 

“Yes,” Jeyne and Margaery said in unison, their eyes glued to the Leather Foursome that had just walked in. 

“Sansa,” Jeyne hissed, her lips barely moving. “Jon Snow is looking right at you.”

Sansa’s heart gave a little lurch. She pretended not to feel a case of nerves. “Is he?” She focused on stirring her straw in her fountain soda. 

“Oh my God, they’re coming this way,” Jeyne said, almost hysterically. Sansa looked at her in alarm. 

Sure enough, the Leather Foursome trooped on by their table. Sansa patently _refused_ to look up. She stared hard at her soda instead and willed them away. 

She jumped a mile when the pizza slid across their table by one of the servers. 

Jeyne and Margaery exchanged looks. Sansa decided she didn’t want to know what those looks meant. Instead she busied herself with dispensing with the plates, knives, and forks that were then set down. She picked up a piece of the pizza (extra cheese) and slid it onto her plate and pretended to watch the steam rise off of it. Instead, she looked to the side with just her eyes and found Jon Snow and his friends had chosen a table exactly across from them on the other side. 

“Sansa, he’s staring at you,” Margaery whispered urgently. 

Okay, well, _that_ made her a bit uneasy. For one, why was he staring? and for two, she hated people she didn’t know looking at her when she ate. It was just a thing. First dates that included a meal sounded like a nightmare to her. 

“Look at him,” Jeyne whispered. 

Sansa looked up at her. “I thought in cases like this it was best to not look?”

That seemed to stump them both and Sansa used the fork and knife to cut a bit of her pizza as neatly as possible. The last thing she wanted to do was end up with a grease spot on her shirt, or cheese or sauce, or any of the usual messy things associated with pizza. 

She didn’t want Jon to think she was a slob. And it was disturbing to her that she gave a crap one way or another as to what he thought. 

Sansa tried her best to steer the conversation away from Jon, but it was no use. All her friends wanted to do was give her a running commentary on what the other table was up to. (The redhead just stuffed a whole slice of pizza in his mouth. The brunette was tapping a cigarette against the table. The tall ugly one was sneering at the guy behind the counter). 

Jon was still staring at her. 

Finally, when the pizza was gone and they were getting ready to go, Sansa glanced over. Jon broke into a wide smile and Sansa’s heart fluttered. 

“He likes you,” Jeyne whispered. “I’m so jealous.”

But all Sansa could think was that he won something. She wasn’t sure what, but that by looking at him, he’d won. His smile had told her that. And if there was one thing Sansa hated, it was losing. 

Game. On.

*************

The following afternoon during lunch, Jon came right up to the table Jeyne, Margaery, and Sansa were sharing. It was such a bold move in a crowded lunchroom that all Sansa could do was gape at him. 

He leaned his hands down on the table and smiled at her. “Hey, Red.”

She blinked. “Hi?”

“How are you doing today?”

“Fine?”

“Are you going to answer every question like you’re not sure?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No.”

His smile widened. “So, I’ll see you in class?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” And then he walked away. 

“Oh my God, Sansa,” Jeyne whispered. 

“Oh my God he so likes you!” Margaery whispered. 

Sansa just looked at them in utter bafflement. 

“Think about it, San,” Margaery said, leaning forward and folding her hands before her as though she was at a board meeting, “You dismissed him the first time you talked. So now, he’s making sure you’re aware of him.”

“Precisely,” Sansa retorted, “Because it’s a game now to him. It has nothing, really, to do with me.”

“I beg to differ. It’s kind of like when the boy on the playground pulls your hair because he likes you.”

“No, the guy on the playground pulls your hair because he’s a little asshole. Sometimes people are assholes just because they can be.”

“He came over and said hi to you though,” Jeyne insisted. “He wasn’t being a jerk to you. He was being friendly.”

“He was being patronizing.”

Sansa wasn’t sure how she knew this, and even if it made any kind of sense, but she was going with it and they weren’t going to change her mind. Neither was Jon. 

Margaery narrowed her eyes and pointed at her. “You kinda like him, too.”

“He does not like me!” Sansa exclaimed, and then promptly turned red when several people around them fell quiet and looked her way. “Can we drop this now?”

Jeyne and Margaery held up their hands as though in surrender. Sansa angrily took a bite of her mac and cheese and hoped she got a seat away from Jon in English that day. 

No such luck. 

She ended up in front of him again and he didn’t waste any time in flicking her hair with his pen. “Have a nice lunch, Red?”

“Can you not call me that?” she snapped, turning her head to the side. 

“I’m sorry. How about my Queen?”

She turned around fully now to look at him. “Where did you come up with that one?”

He smiled lazily at her, and Sansa hated how his smile did things to her. “Because you’re just so...regal. The way you sit, the way you carry yourself with your head held high, and you sit so straight, even at lunch.”

“Have you been watching me?” she asked, and instantly wished she hadn’t. 

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I find you fascinating.”

She furrowed her brow. “Why? How?”

He leaned forward in his seat, closer to her. Closer than she really felt comfortable with, but she refused to let on that he got to her in any way, shape, or form. She caught a whiff of bergamot and felt herself leaning forward to get a better sniff at it. 

“You’re too perfect.”

She snapped out of her daze and snorted. “I am not.”

“That’s good to hear you think so. But I’ve yet to see you anything but completely put together. Nothing seems to ruffle you.”

 _You do_ , she thought. 

Their eyes locked and held. Sansa felt her skin grow tight, and her breathing grow a bit ragged. She could practically _feel_ her eyes dilating, and she thought perhaps Jon’s did, too. Or it was just wishful thinking. 

_**Wishful** thinking?_ she thought incredulously.

Mr. Seaworth entered the room then with a “Hello, class”, and Sansa turned around and faced forward. Her heart still raced. She felt Jon use his pen to flick her hair. She ignored him.

****************

Over the next few days, Jon started popping up in the hall whereas previously she had yet to see him. Every time she passed by him he said hello to her. Knowing where some of his classes were based on how everyone in the school seemed to know his schedule now, there was no way for him to be anywhere near the vicinity of where hers were. 

Had he gotten her schedule? Or was he making it a point to be aggravatingly late to his classes? Either way, it made her feel things. Things that excited her and things that made her nervous. She got to the point that she would actually look for him. 

And in English, if she wasn’t sitting in front of him, then she ended up beside him and he always talked to her. He asked about her day. What clubs she belonged to. If she had a boyfriend. 

“I don’t,” she told him primly.

He smiled then, a cheshire cat grin that made Sansa nervous. 

At the end of his first full week, Sansa talked to him first. “So, you’ve been good.”

He looked confused. “What?”

“You haven’t gotten into any trouble.”

He sighed. “Well, I did get caught smoking in the boys bathroom. I had detention yesterday.”

“Oh. But, I mean, you haven’t done anything...ya know...super bad.”

“I like to ease people into these things,” he said with a grin. 

Sansa found herself laughing. 

“Have you been wanting me to do something bad?” he asked curiously. 

“No, but I thought it was one of those things where trouble sort of followed you.”

“Oh, it does. It even calls at all hours of the night,” he muttered. 

“Pardon?”

“My ex-girlfriend. She hasn’t exactly accepted our breakup.”

Sansa bit her lip. “So you’re not dating Ygritte Wilde anymore.”

“I am not.”

“What happened?”

“She was more trouble than she was worth.”

“Didn’t you get her pregnant?”

Jon stared at her, gobsmacked. “What?”

Sansa reddened. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Mr. Seaworth came in then and all conversation ceased. Sansa felt awful. The look on his face…

As she was jotting down notes and trying not to look at Jon, a folded piece of paper landed on her desk. A note. She glanced at Jon and he nodded. 

She opened it with shaking fingers. 

_Go for a ride with me after school today. I’ll tell you everything. Nod if you’ll come._

She stared at it for longer than she needed to. Go for a ride? With him? On his bike? Another note dropped on her desk. 

_Don’t tell me you’re afraid._

Well, that did it. She lifted her chin, looked at him, and nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa was to meet Jon in the parking lot after school. After the last bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Sansa took her sweet time at her locker. It occurred to her that she might not be able to take the books she needed to do her homework on his bike, and so she was mentally calculating how long she could conceivably be out with Jon before the school was locked up for the night so she could get her books. Also, if she had any study halls in the morning before any classes that she had homework in. 

“Why are you staring at the inside of your locker like you just saw Narnia in there?” Margaery asked as she came up beside her. 

“Ooh, Narnia! Do you see Prince Caspian?” Jeyne said excitedly as she came bounding up to them, books pressed against her chest. 

Sansa rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. To tell her friends or not tell her friends about this ride? It wasn’t that she gave a crap what anyone would think about her hanging out with Jon, but did she have time for the squealing and the questions and the advice they’d no doubt heap upon her?

“Sansa, you comin’?”

All three girls turned their heads to see Jon at the double doors at the end of the hall, a helmet in his hand. He lifted it up. “You ready?”

Margaery and Jeyne both looked at her, mouths gaping open. Sansa cleared her throat. “Yes, uh, can you take me back here later so I can get my books?”

“Whatever you want,” he said with a grin. 

Sansa shut her locker and pressed her back against it for a minute as she regarded Margaery and Jeyne, still gaping at her. “So, I’ll, um, text you guys later.”

And then she walked quickly down the hall towards Jon. 

He was still grinning, his eyes practically twinkling as she approached. He held up the black helmet in his hand. “This is for you.”

Sansa took it and turned it over in her hands. She’d never worn one like this before, only her bike helmet. This one was infinitely cooler than her neon bicycle helmet. “What will you be wearing?”

“A helmet. It’s on my bike.”

“Do you always carry spare helmets with you?”

“Well...yeah. I mean, you never know when you might need to give someone a lift. It’s not that odd.”

He had a point, and she told him so. 

He chuckled. “I’m so glad I’ve passed muster.”

“Well, we’ll see about that. If I survive this ride then I’ll say you’ve passed.”

“Do I get a prize if I do?” Was he flirting with her? 

“Yes. The knowledge that you didn’t kill me.”

He laughed and pushed the doors open. “Let’s go, Queen Sansa.”

Sansa turned and waved to her friends who were still standing there and watching them. 

“Be careful,” Sansa told Jon as she passed by him. “I might like that nickname too much.” Oh, God. Now she was flirting. 

Jon let the door go and held out an arm. “May I escort you, Your Grace?”

She giggled and shook her head and started for the parking lot. “Have you ever been in an accident?” she asked. 

“You mean the rumors never said anything about that?”

She frowned. “No.”

“I got into an accident once when I first got the bike. It wasn’t major. I never made the same mistake again.”

“What happened?”

“I took a bend a little too sharp and ended up with some road burn.”

“Ouch.”

“You can say that again.”

Sansa spotted the lone motorcycle hiding behind a car and she held her breath. The words “Death Trap” kept rolling through her head. It was black and chrome and shiny. She had no idea what kind it was, and she didn’t really care. The brand of the bike wasn’t going to keep her safe, that was the job of the operator. 

“Don’t look so scared,” he said gently as he took the helmet from her. He lifted it up over her head and smiled down at her. “I’ll keep you safe.” He put the helmet on her and did up the strap. “You look cute with it on.”

Sansa felt her face redden and hoped he couldn’t see it. “Where are you taking me?” she asked as she watched him grab his helmet off the back of the bike and slip it over his head. She thought it was a shame to cover those curls. 

“I thought I might take you somewhere secluded in the woods so I could have my wicked way with you,” he said. She took a step back and he shook his head. “Sansa, I’m joking. Jesus, do you really believe every rumor you hear?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. 

He sighed. “Yeah. Anyway.” He climbed on the bike, his strong thighs prominent as he straddled the bike. Sansa gulped. Was she really going to do this? He started up the bike and held out his hand. “Come on, Queen Sansa. I’ll pop your motorcycle cherry real nice and slow.”

She shot him a dirty look and he laughed. She climbed on thinking, _Oh God Oh God Oh God_. 

“Hold on tight!” he called out to her over the roar of the bike. She didn’t need to be told twice. She wrapped her arms around him and held on as tight as she could. 

“I still have to breathe!” 

She loosened her grip a fraction, and then gasped when the bike lurched forward. She shut her eyes tight, burying her face in his leather jacket. 

“Don’t hide your face, beautiful! You’ll miss out!”

Her eyes snapped open and she lifted her head and stared at the back of his helmeted head. Did he just call her beautiful? She narrowed her eyes. Just what was he about?

The trees whipping by them caught her attention and she allowed herself to look. Her heart was still in her throat and it was a little unnerving to not have a door beside her to keep her from the elements. She found herself wondering if had a car for the winter because there was no way he drove this thing in the snow. 

Slowly, she began to relax as she watched the scenery pass her by. However, when cars passed by them, she did grip him a little tighter. 

As it turned out, he hadn’t been completely lying when he told her was taking her some place in the woods. She recognized it though. It was the Wolfswood, and there was a paved path for cars and bikes up to the peak. She remembered hiking it often as a kid when her parents decided that the younger kids needed to burn some energy. It was just the right length for them to get a workout with their little legs and it worked every time. They’d fall asleep on those nights after the hike no problem. 

It was different to ride the car and bike path, but Sansa quite liked it. The changing colors on the trees were something to behold and she thought she should really make a point to come here soon and take a hike. With schoolwork, her job, her extracurriculars, and carving out time for Margaery and Jeyne she felt as though she didn’t have much time for just herself. She missed that. 

She recognized the signs the closer they got to the top and she found herself looking forward the breeze and the view of the other mountains, plus the small hills and valleys that would be beneath them. 

And it was just as lovely as she imagined, the colors taking her breath away. She unwound herself from Jon when the bike rumbled to a stop. Jon climbed off and then helped her off; she was surprised to find her legs a little like jelly. He grinned at her and helped her with the helmet, though she found it unnecessary of him to do so. He placed hers and his on the seat of the bike and they just looked at each other. 

“Was it as bad as you thought?” he asked. 

“I’m afraid to say no.”

He laughed. “You just sorta did.”

She smiled and gestured to their view. “So. The top of a mountain.”

“So it is. I promise though - I won’t have my wicked way with you. Unless you want me to, of course.”

Sansa didn’t know how to respond to that and so she didn’t. “I used to climb this mountain with my family when I was a kid. Robb and I were always in front leading the charge and my parents were in the back, wrangling the stragglers.”

“Robb?”

“My older brother. He’s in college. I have a big family. Five siblings.”

“Your sister is in our school isn’t she?”

Sansa nodded and held out her hand flat and down near her elbow. “Short, hair always a mess, and mouthy? That would be her.”

Jon laughed. “I think mouthy must run in the family then.”

She gaped at him. “You think I’m mouthy?”

He shrugged. “Okay, maybe not mouthy, but you definitely speak your mind.”

“There is nothing wrong with that.”

His gaze softened into something that made her uncomfortable. “No, there isn’t.”

“So, about earlier in class,” she said. “You know, the rumors…”

He nodded and shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Then he pulled them out. “Are you cold at all?” he asked. 

It occurred to her that he was willing to give her his leather jacket to wear and she didn’t know what to make of that. “Uh, no, I’m fine.” She was a little chilly, her cardigan didn’t quite cut it in the cool mountain air, but taking his jacket? That was a little...couple-y and date-like. This was more like an information gathering session. 

“Right then,” he said with a nod, looking a little disappointed that she didn’t want his jacket. “The rumors.” He sighed. “I didn’t get Ygritte pregnant. I’ve never gotten anyone pregnant. What exactly did you hear?”

“Do you really want to know?”

He nodded. 

“The rumor was you were involved in an orgy or, uh, fivesome, and got five girls pregnant in one night.”

Jon blinked. “Seriously?”

She nodded. 

He burst out laughing, which surprised her. “A fivesome. And five girls pregnant. Holy fucking shit.” He jammed his hands back in his pockets. “Well, at least the rumors make me out to be a total stud.”

Sansa made a face. “Ew.”

“Well, let me put your mind at ease, Queen Sansa. I never got any girl pregnant, least of all five girls. Ygritte always did run with a crowd, and so perhaps people just ran with the fivesome idea. Ygritte _had_ just had an abortion when I met her, so…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’. What else have you heard about me?”

“Your father is in prison and you carry a knife with you at all times.”

“I do have a knife, I named it Longclaw--”

“You named a knife?”

“Of course.” He sounded aghast, as though everyone but her knew that’s what you did. 

“Okay, sure.”

“But I don’t always carry it with me.”

“Comforting. And your Dad?”

“Not in prison. He tries to keep people out of prison as his job.”

Sansa’s mouth dropped open and she pointed at him. “You big ass. Your Dad is an attorney?”

Jon sighed heavily and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

“And you passed judgment on me because of my father. What the hell, Jon?”

He looked up at her, a soft smile on his face. “I like it when you say my name.”

She ignored the stutter of her heart. “Why did you give me such a hard time? I’m assuming you’re well off, too.”

“I wasn’t always. You see, my Dad...he wasn’t always in the picture.”

“Keep going,” she said, motioning for him to continue. 

“I was raised by my Mom, because she and my Father divorced and he just sort of slowly stopped coming around. We struggled a lot; my mom and my Father didn’t have any kind of agreement, so she never asked him for extra than what he gave her even when she should have. She was proud to a fault.” He heaved another deep sigh. “He had his new family with his brand new wife and kids and his big fucking house and shiny BMW. Then my mom got sick. Cancer. And he came around again. Had some kind of change of heart or some bullshit, I don’t really care.”

“He has custody of you now then?” Sansa asked softly. 

“Yeah,” he said, and somehow managed to infuse a hell of a lot of bitterness in that one word. 

“How long ago did your Mom pass on?”

“A year,” he said softly. He turned to look out at the view and Sansa could see his jaw clenched tight. 

Feeling bad for him, she ambled over to him and put her hand on arm. “I am sorry about your Mom, Jon. I can’t...I can’t imagine what that must be like. I’m so sorry.”

He turned his head to look at her, and then, before she could make sense of what was happening, he turned into her, cupped the side of her face, and gently pressed his lips to hers. 

She gasped, not having expected that, and reared back. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and held up a hand, ducking his head as though shamed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“You should ask before just laying one on a girl like that.”

He looked at her hopefully. “Does that mean if I asked now I could kiss you again?”

“No,” she said, the answer flying out of her mouth before she could think to sugar coat it a little. Now he looked a mix between pissed and crestfallen. 

“I’ll take you back to the school,” he said gruffly and started for the bike. 

“Wait. Jon, listen…”

He looked over at her, her helmet in his hand. “Yeah?” he said tersely. 

That annoyed her. She put her hands on her hips. “Okay, listen, we did have a moment there. You were upset and I was trying to offer condolences and my support, and then you just laid one on me. Yes, you did ask the second time after I told you to, but honestly? I don’t even know if I like you yet.”

He stared at her in bewilderment. “You sit with me in English every day.”

“Yeah, because there are literally no other places for me to sit because everyone else if avoiding you like the plague. Any spot left is always next to you in some fashion.”

“You talk to me every day,” he argued. 

“I might be mouthy but I am nice.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Hey!”

“You agreed to go on a bike ride with me, Sansa. Why would you do that if you didn’t at least like me a little? And I’m not talking the kind of like where you want to date me or some shit like that, I’m talking about at least thinking of me as a friend.”

“Do you kiss all your friends?” she asked incredulously. 

“That’s not the point. Like you said, we had a moment. I just read some of it wrong. Why don’t you know if you like me yet? _How_ do you not know that?” 

“Because it takes me a while to warm up to people. A five-minute chat once a day before class and a bike ride does not an instant friendship make, Jon. Before today, I literally knew nothing about you except for the crap I heard.”

“You know I like to talk to you.”

“You tease me,” she clarified. 

He grinned. “Yeah, I do.”

She rolled her eyes. “As for the bike ride? You accused me of being afraid of going so _of course_ that meant I had to go.”

“If I accused you of being afraid to be friends with me would you then be friends with me?”

She just looked at him. “Jon.”

“I’m just trying to figure out how this works. What if I accused you of being afraid to kiss me? Would you let me kiss you then?”

She _was_ afraid to kiss him. Because just that little kiss had made her toes curl and she had not been prepared at all for that. “Jon.”

“Sansa.” He took a step closer to her. “Listen, I kind of want to be your friend, Sansa Stark. No matter how mouthy you are. What can I do to make you like me?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. Not for a while. Her mind was racing. How did they go from casual acquaintances to friends? She didn’t have a definitive answer for him. Things like friendship happened organically. Or not. “I...guess we...talk...more?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“I’m telling you? I mean, I’m telling you.”

He laughed softly. “You are a trip, my Queen.”

“I’ve never had anyone ask me how they can make me like them.”

“But you seem so quick to have an answer for everything,” he said teasingly. 

“Oh, fuck you.”

He laughed out loud, and she smiled while shaking her head. 

“Well, I know one way to make you like me.”

“Oh?” she asked curiously. 

“Let me get you back to the school so you can get your books and do your damn homework.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“What can I say? I’m a hell of a guy. Let’s go, Mouthy.”

She frowned and took her helmet back. “Is that nickname going to stick? Cause I kind of don’t like it.”

Jon just laughed.


	4. Chapter 4

Jon fell into step beside Sansa as she made her way into the school once they’d returned. She looked over at him a bit oddly, as if she wasn’t quite sure why he was following her, and he got a little thrill out of keeping her a bit off balance. God knew she kept him pretty off balance as well. 

(She didn’t know if she liked him yet?!) 

The first time he talked to her he knew he liked her. Her and that sassy mouth of hers. He also found her to be exceptionally gorgeous. In short, he was attracted to her. Very much so. But he found it was her mind - and that mouth - that attracted him the most. 

Ygritte had spoken her mind, too, and it was something he’d always admired, but whereas Ygritte had always pushed her opinions on others, Sansa just said what she thought without feeling the need to be a bully about it. He got the sense that she could be a bit implacable about some things, but that she might also be willing to be open to another point of view. She had been willing to hear him out after all. 

Girls like Sansa didn’t give boys like him the time of day. Or if they did, it was for a while just so they could feel a little rebellious and “bad”, and then go back to their bubble gum lives. Sansa though, she struck him as the sort of girl that did things as long as she wanted to. And if she didn’t, well, tough shit. 

He liked that about her. A lot. 

He got the sense that if she let him into her life, he would be one lucky son of a bitch. 

He thought back to that kiss he’d planted on her. It was true, he had read it all wrong. He thought his kiss would be welcome, and he’d been caught up in grief and her comforting him that he’d mistaken it all. He thought she was just as attracted to him as he was to her. But no. She still didn’t know if she _liked_ him yet. He couldn’t seem to stop being bewildered by that. And intrigued. What would it take to make her like him? What would it take to get under her skin the way she was getting under his?

“You didn’t have to follow me in, Jon,” she told him. 

He shrugged, even as his heart sped up at the sound of his name on her lips. “I know.”

“Well, it’s very chivalrous of you, so thank you.”

“How do you know I don’t need to just get my books, too?”

She looked at him sharply and he laughed. 

He leaned against the set of lockers beside hers as he watched her do the combination. “Why don’t you just set it so you don’t have to do all that?”

Jon smiled as he watched her mutter the numbers to herself as she meticulously turned the dial. 

When she got her locker open, she glanced at him before pulling books out. “Because every year someone’s big project for some class goes missing when it’s stolen out of their locker by some jackass who has decided to just open someone’s locker because it’s already set.”

“What if you set it so that you just had to do the last number?”

“I’ve tried that. I just end up having to do it all over again anyway because it’s gotten knocked into and moved already.”

“I’m trying here, Sansa.”

She laughed a little. “I know.” She then turned to him and handed him a pile of books. “Will you hold these for a minute? I should have taken my backpack out first.”

“No problem.”

He took her books from her and watched her fit the books into her backpack. However, in watching her it seemed there was a particular order to them. “Is there a method to that?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she said as she knelt on the cold dusty floor and looked up at him. She pointed to the book in front and then ran her finger down the line to the back of the backpack. “They are in order of homework that will take me the shortest amount of time to do to the longest amount of time.”

For the life of him, Jon could not figure out why this turned him on. He found her utterly fucking _fascinating._

She stood, dusted off her black pants and hefted her backpack up and over her shoulder. Most students only did the one shoulder thing, but Sansa did both. Of course. And she probably had some perfectly logical reason for it. 

“You look like you’re about to head out for that hike,” he said. 

She glanced at the straps she was currently clutching. “Yeah, I know, I look like a nerd. But this way the one strap is not digging into my shoulder and the bag itself is not wreaking as much as havoc on my back,” she told him as she started for the door. Jon fell into step beside her, hanging on her every word. “It’s still wreaking some havoc because honestly we shouldn’t be carrying these many books on our back, but at least this way the weight of it is evenly distributed.”

Fucking hell. Some men put gorgeous girls in their spank bank and beat off to the image in their mind of them naked or in some kind of flimsy negligee. Into Jon’s spank bank was Sansa telling him about “even distribution of weight” with a backpack.

Something was wrong with him. 

Once outside, she shielded her eyes from the sun glaring down at them with one hand and squinted at him. “So, I’m not going to tell anyone anything you told me,” she told him. “Especially about Ygritte and your Mom.”

“You sure you don’t want to set them straight about me getting five girls pregnant in one night?” he asked with a grin. 

“Do you want me to?”

“How about you just tell them the rumor is not true, and that I’m good, but not that good.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll just tell them you said that never happened and stop right there.”

“Good idea. Your reputation is probably tainted enough for having gone on a ride with me. Best not give them any more opportunity to make shit up about what happened.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the gossip mill will have a field day,” she sighed. 

“You worried?” he asked, because now he was worried about what actually could be said. If people actually thought he was able to get five girls pregnant in one night, then what would they say about Sansa hanging out with him? 

He’d fucking knock some skulls together if they said anything bad about her. He didn’t care if he ended up getting detention for the rest of the year. 

“No, I’m not. Who I hang out with is my prerogative, and I fly under the radar anyway.”

“Really?”

“People don’t often like the smart girl unless they want to copy off their tests.”

“Do you let them?” he asked with a smile. 

She arched a brow. “What do you think?”

He laughed. “No. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

When they got to her car, Sansa looked up at him. “Jon, can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask me anything you want, beautiful,” he said, and meant every damn word. 

Her cheeks turned pink and Jon wanted to reach out and cup them in his hands. “Okay, well, I wanted to know why you came up to me in the lunchroom after seeing me at the pizza place? Why did you go out of your way to say hi to me?”

“Because you were intent on ignoring me and I wasn’t going to let you.”

“I was right then. It was like a game to you.”

“Not a game. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t fly under your radar.”

“Is that why you keep popping up in the halls like Waldo?”

He grinned. “Yep.”

“You’re a little bit of a stalker.”

“Well, like I said, I like you Sansa Stark.”

“You’re growing on me, Jon Snow,” she said and then smirked. “Like mold.”

He laughed. “If anyone gives you a hard time about hanging out with me, will you let me know?”

“Why? So you can threaten them? I don’t think so. And stop worrying. It’ll be fine.”

xxxxxxxxxxx

It wasn’t exactly fine. 

Sansa found herself the center of quite a bit of attention the following morning, and it started as soon as she walked into the school. All eyes in the hall were on her. She wasn’t used to such scrutiny and lifted her chin as she headed to her locker. 

Jeyne and Margaery were there to greet her and she hadn’t even gotten the words “Hello” out of her mouth than they were asking her if Jon had texted her the night before. 

“We didn’t exchange numbers,” Sansa said. “Didn’t I tell you both that last night in chat?”

“Hey, Stark.”

Sansa looked over her shoulder and found Cersei Lannister standing there, smirking at her. She had her posse of mean girls around her and Sansa rolled her eyes. 

Cersei tossed her blond hair over her shoulder and put her hand on her hip. Sansa was once again amazed at how Cersei could breathe in those skinny jeans of hers. “Heard you went for a ride with Jon Snow yesterday.”

“And?”

“And how was it? Any good?”

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. Riding, sex...Clever. Did you come up with that all on your own or did it take the combined brain power of all your minions to cook that one up?”

“You’re such a bitch,” Cersei said distastefully. 

“Takes one to know one I guess,” Sansa said with a shrug. 

Cersei took a step toward her when Yara Greyjoy muttered that a teacher was coming. 

“You better watch yourself,” Cersei hissed in warning and stalked off, head held high. Her minions scampered after her, and those that had been watching the whole exchange pretended they hadn’t been. 

In every single class that morning someone asked her how the “ride” was, some with a lecherous waggle of their brows. And every time they did, Sansa just stared at them blankly until they went away. 

When lunch rolled around, she was preparing her lunch on a tray - she’d brought that day while Jeyne and Margarey were in line. It was a pretty boring and basic lunch: PBJ, apple, yogurt with a handful of almonds mixed in, and carrot sticks with a small container of ranch dressing. 

“Hey.”

Sansa looked up and found Jon sliding in next to her in his tight jeans, black boots, black shirt, and leather jacket. He smiled at her. “How you doin?”

“I’m fine. I have gotten a lot of questions about yesterday. A lot of double entendres concerning the bike ride.”

He groaned. “I was afraid of that.”

“It’s not anything I can’t handle.”

“I just wanted to check on you,” he said. “I’m supposed to be in class right now. I got a pass to use the bathroom. I said the pizza wasn’t settling well.”

“Bodily functions already? I’m not sure we’re there yet, Jon.”

“We will be,” he said with a grin and looked down at her lunch. “Sansa, there is nothing on that tray I even want to steal. What the hell.”

“I need the protein and fiber.”

“You didn’t get enough protein yesterday, Stark?” Gregor Clegane snarked with a laugh as he walked by. 

Jon was up from his seat so fast, Sansa’s head spun. Figuring out his intent pretty quickly, Sansa stood and reached out to grab him, but it was too late. He punched Gregor so hard the other boy landed on his ass in the middle of the aisle. 

The teachers began to swarm while Jon pointed down at a stunned Gregor - who was usually the one beating his peers up - and snarled, “Say one more fucking word to her and I’ll gut you like a fucking fish.”

“Jon!” Sansa exclaimed, utterly stunned by what had just happened. 

The teachers swarmed then and Jon was dragged away. He looked over his shoulder at Sansa and Sansa sat back down, gobsmacked. Another teacher had Gregor and Sansa watched him being marched out of the cafeteria. Jeyne and Margaery slid in across from her and started squealing about how romantic and hot it was for Jon to defend her honor that way. 

Sansa pursed her lips together and looked at them. “No,” she said firmly. “It was stupid.”

They had the good sense not to argue with her.


	5. Chapter 5

It didn’t take long for the principal to call Sansa down to the office to give her side of the story. She learned quickly that Gregor Clegane had said that Jon just attacked him for no reason at all. Sansa thought he looked pretty pathetic sitting there with his eye swelling and a petulant look on his face. As soon as he saw her, he shrank back into his seat - he knew he was screwed. 

He was a shit and everyone knew it. If any of the freshman he beat up had the courage to report him, Gregor would have gotten called down to the office long ago. 

Sansa explained what happened, adding in that Jon was just defending her, and did not add that it had been an unnecessary and stupid thing to do. She’d tell him that later. 

She was dismissed, and when Sansa looked back at Jon as she leaving she found him looking at her longingly. She nodded curtly and departed, and hoped that he didn’t get into too much trouble. 

**********

Jon was suspended for two days.

He didn’t really care about being suspended, but he did care what Sansa was thinking about the whole thing, that he wouldn’t get to see her for two days, and that his father was going to have a fucking conniption over the whole goddamn thing. 

His step-mother, Elia, said nothing. Probably because she knew he wouldn’t listen to her anyway. She did get that pursed-lips-look-of-disapproval about her when he told her he’d be home for the next two days and that it would best to steer clear of him. 

Then he holed himself up in his room and looked up the Stark’s phone number. He was going to call Sansa when he was sure she was home and find out if she was okay and if she was pissed at him. It didn’t take long to look them up, and after, he lay down on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking of him Mom and how much he missed her in that moment. When he’d get in trouble at school before, she’d yell at him for a few and then give him some extra chores to do around the house. She didn’t go on and on about it, like he knew his father would, and they’d actually go out and do stuff together - like play mini-golf, or watch a movie together. 

Often, Jon got the feeling that his Mom didn’t mind so much having him home even if the circumstances weren’t the best. She was lonely a lot of the time, which led to her making some piss poor decisions in men, but she never made him feel unloved or that he was a burden on her.

Tears tracked down to his pillow underneath him and he wiped them away hastily. He rolled over and shut his eyes, staring at his white wall and thought not for the first time how much he missed his black walls in his old room. 

The next thing he knew he was being roughly shaken and he realized that he had fallen asleep. The overhead light in his room was on - something he never turned on; he only ever used the lamp on his nightstand - and he knew that his father was the one shaking him awake. 

Jon rolled onto his back and then sat up while Rhaegar Targaryen pulled the rolling desk chair from Jon’s desk, which really just held an assortment of books, video games, and rough sketches, and sat down facing him. 

“You heard,” Jon said, not caring to beat around the bush. “What’s my punishment?”

“No video games for a week, and no bike.”

Jon stared at him. “You want me to take the fucking bus to school?”

“Watch your language,” his father snapped. “And yes.”

“Anything else?” Jon asked. 

“You’re going to help Elia around the house. I want the gutters cleaned and the leaves taken care of.” 

Jon shrugged. “Whatever.”

His father turned red, which was an odd look next to his short white hair. His blue eyes were ablaze with anger. “Do you care about anything, Jon? Anything at all?”

Jon shrugged, knowing it would just anger his father further. 

“You try my patience,” his father growled. He stood. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“ know the school called you to tell you already.”

“Just tell me,” Rhaegar said with a hint of exasperation. 

“Some asshole--”

“ _Language_.” 

_Fuck off_ , Jon thought. “Overheard Sansa and I having a conversation and made a crude comment to her. It pissed - _made me mad_ \- so I punched him.”

“Sansa…?”

“Stark.”

His father’s eyes widened a bit. “Sansa Stark? The daughter of Ned Stark?”

“Yeah.” And Jon only knew this because he’d looked them up and confirmed that they were the same Starks by the firm of the same name in town. 

“You were defending Sansa Stark.”

Jon stared at his father, annoyed now. Probably because of the look on his father’s face. “Yeah, I was defending Sansa Stark.” _So why don’t you just cut the shit and_ “Tell me why you look so amused by this.” 

“Ned Stark and I are old rivals. We’ve a long history of being in court on opposite sides. I think he’s too much of a hard ass who sees things in black and white and he thinks I’m slime who puts criminals on the street.”

 _Well_ , Jon thought, _he’s not wrong. You are slime._

“So what are you and Sansa now? Dating? Hooking up or whatever it is you kids say today?”

Jon narrowed his eyes at Rhaegar. “We’re friends.”

“Only friends? Even though you punched a guy for her?”

“Yes,” Jon seethed. He didn’t want his father to catch a whiff of his attraction for Sansa. He didn’t want his father anywhere near anything he had with Sansa. Rhaegar Targaryen tainted everything in his opinion. 

“Just watch out that it stays that way. I can’t see Ned Stark letting you date her.”

“Fuck you,” Jon said without thinking. 

Rhaegar looked about ready to punch him. “Two weeks. You’re grounded for two weeks.”

Father and son glared at each other. 

Then, Rhaegar pushed a hand through his hair and let out a sigh as he turned away from his son. “You know, Jon, I’m trying here.”

“Now you try. After she’d dead you try,” Jon said bitterly. 

“Your mother didn’t always make things easy, you know. Have you ever thought that maybe you don’t have the whole story?”

“Convenient that you should say there’s more to the story when Mom isn’t around to defend herself.”

Rhaegar let out another sigh. A long-suffering-I’m-exhausted-by-you-and-this-conversation kind of sigh. “I don’t want you to get into any more trouble,” he said wearily. “We’ve gotten rid of the selling drugs problem, and I don’t want you getting kicked out of school. Keep your temper in check.”

“Yes, sir,” Jon said defiantly. 

With a shake of his head, Rhaegar stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

*************  
“Sansa, there’s a _boy_ on the phone.” 

Sansa looked over her shoulder at her sister, Arya, who was standing in the doorway and blinked. “What?”

“The phone? The landline that no one uses? You have a phone call on it. And it’s a boy.”

Sansa pushed her chair back from her desk and stood. “Do you know who it is?”

“Nope.”

“Did you _ask_?”

“Nope.”

Sansa sighed and got up. “Okay, where’s the phone?”

Arya held it up from where she’d been hiding it behind her back and grinned. Sansa grabbed it and shooed her out of the room and away. She closed the door and brought the phone to her ear. “Hello, this is Sansa.”

“Hello, my Queen.”

Jon. She shivered. His voice over the line was deeper and it did things to her. Things that made her feel a little nervous. “Hi,” she said, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could. 

“How was the rest of your day?” he asked. “Anyone else say crap to you?”

Did she want to tell him that people had been asking exactly when they started hooking up? No. 

“Not really,” she said smoothly. 

“Are you upset with me?” he asked softly. 

Well, if he was just going to give her an opening…

“Why did you do that? Do you have any idea how stupid that was?”

He sighed heavily. “Sansa, what that fucker said was out of line and crude--”

“Everyone knows what a dickhead Gregor Clegane is. He has no friends save for a few desperate souls and he spends all his time beating up on freshman. I don’t care what he says about me or _to_ me. He doesn’t even register on my radar. But you doing that got you suspended, and how is that going to look on your academic record?”

“Probably better than getting expelled.”

She sighed again. “Jon.”

“So, that’s why you’re pissed? Because you’re worried about my _academic record_?”

“Well, like you said, you already got expelled from one school. This isn’t going to help. The faculty is going to be watching you like a hawk now.”

“Eh. They already do.”

“And now you just gave them more of a reason. I can handle the gossip, Jon. Please, don’t do that again.”

“Is this your weird way of saying you actually care about what happens to me, Sansa?”

Hm. She hadn’t really thought about it that way. Her biggest concern had been his record and only because she worried about her own. “I guess it is,” she murmured. 

“That just warms the cockles of my heart, Lippy.”

“Do the nicknames ever end?” she asked in exasperation. 

“We’ll find out. Can I have your cell number?”

“Why?”

“So I can call and text on that instead of your landline. Why do you think?”

“How did you get my number anyway?”

“There’s this new thing I tried. The interwebs? Is that what it’s called?”

Sansa laughed. “You dork.”

He laughed. “Seriously though, can I have it? I got the third degree from your sister and I’d like to avoid that in the future.”

Sansa narrowed her eyes. “What did she ask you?”

“Who it was, why was I calling, does my hand hurt after punching Gregor Clegane.”

 _That little shit_ , Sansa thought. 

“Do your parents know yet?” he asked. 

“No, they’re not home yet. Some dinner they had to go to.”

“Well, I’ll be interested to hear what they have to say. My Dad tells me that he and your Dad are rivals in court.”

Sansa’s brows raised. “Who is your Dad?”

“Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“Oh yeah, my father hates him. Wow. What a small world we live in…”

“Think your Dad will hate me because of my Dad?”

“No, he’s not like that. Might not be a big fan of your reputation though.”

“Will I be your dirty secret, Sansa?”

She could practically see the eyebrow waggle. “Oh for crying out loud. No. We’re friends. We’re not dating.”

“What if we were? Dating that is?”

All the breath in her body left her. “I, uh, I don’t - I don’t know.”

He laughed softly. “I’m sorry, my Queen. Did I just make you a little nervous?”

“I’m not - I mean - I just don’t--” _Have any experience? I’m awkward around boys I find hot?_

“It’s okay, Sansa,” he said softly, almost soothingly. “There isn’t any reason to be nervous with me.”

“I’m not,” she said defensively. 

“Okay, sure. So, can I have your number now? I’m being summoned.”

“By the dark forces? Why does that not surprise me?”

“You laugh, but it’s my father and he is a dark force.”

Sansa laughed and gave him her cell. 

“I’ll text you,beautiful,” he said. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Hanging up, Sansa smiled to herself, allowing herself to feel for a minute a warm and tingling feeling…

It sort of felt like impending danger. 

She’d never been this attracted to a boy before, and she’d never had one seek her out the way Jon did. Or punch someone for her (even if it was stupid). 

Her mother told her she needed to “go with the flow” a little more, and maybe this was one of those instances where she needed to do that instead of over-analyzing what this new friendship meant. It could just very well _be_ a friendship and it didn’t have to _mean_ anything. 

Resolute that she would put it all out of her head for now, she walked out of her room and shouted, “Arya Stark! I have a bone to pick with you!”


	6. Chapter 6

The text from Jon came at almost 9 pm, and Sansa wondered what took him so long. Also, why was she shaking? As soon as she’d seen the text come through from the number she didn’t recognize, she felt this frisson of excitement course through her to the point that she actually started to shake.

Jon: _Hello Beautiful_

She felt a rush of excitement. Oh God, she needed to get a grip. So, she decided to tease him. 

Sansa: _Hiddles! I’ve missed you!_

Jon: _Who the fuck is Hiddles?_

Sansa: _Tom Hiddleston._

Jon: _Don’t know him. In our school?_

Sansa: _No, he’s an actor. Loki from Thor?_

Jon: _Still don’t know him._

Sansa: [](https://imgur.com/8xc4pdM)

Jon: _I don’t like him._

Sansa: _You don’t know him!_

Jon: _He looks shifty. So, you know what I realized?_

Sansa: _What’s that?_

Jon: _You said we’re friends. That means I grew on you fast. It means you LIKE me._

Sansa: _Huh. I did say that, didn’t I?_

Jon: _Sure did._

Sansa: _No take-backs?_

Jon: _Nope_

Sansa: _Then I guess that means we’re friends now._

Jon: _I feel like we should celebrate this._

Sansa: _How?_

While she waited for his reply, she put her phone down beside her on her bed and shut her eyes. She inhaled deeply, held it for a count of five, and then released it slowly. What was wrong with her that just this little contact with Jon and she could barely contain herself? She wasn’t used to this feeling and half of her liked it and the other half was over it already. 

A knock came at her door. 

“Who is it?” she called out. 

“Your father.”

“Oh! Come in, Dad!”

Ned Stark pushed the door open and smiled down at her. His gray eyes were warm and he wore a soft smile, only partially covered by his beard. He was tall, her Dad, and in some doorways, he had to duck. He was still dressed in his suit from dinner, and Sansa realized she had been too absorbed with texting Jon to realize her parents had come home. 

Ned sat down on her bed and smiled at her. “What’s this Arya tells me about some boy punching another boy for you?”

Sansa sighed. Of course Arya would waste no time at all spilling that bit of news. “We never should have encouraged her to speak.”

“I heard that!” Arya said from the hall. 

Sansa got up and slammed her door shut.

Her father arched his brow. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t forget to mention that he called her tonight, Dad!” Arya shouted through the door. 

“Arya Stark, leave your sister and father alone,” Sansa heard her mother say. 

Sansa looked at her father in exasperation. “Can we discuss muzzling her at least?”

Ned chuckled. “No. Now tell me about this boy.”

Sansa bit her lip and then her phone went off, signaling that Jon had texted. She hurried to put it on vibrate and then faced her Dad again. “Okay, well, you’re not going to like this.”

“Try me.”

“He’s Rhaegar Targaryen’s son.”

Ned blinked. “Sansa, the only son I know Rhaegar has is seven-years-old.”

“Well, brace yourself, because he also has a seventeen-year-old, too.”

“When did…? How do I not know this?”

“Because he was kind of a shitty father who left when Jon was still young and got married and had kids with someone else. Jon never really saw him all that much.”

“So, this boy who rushed to your defense has a name.”

“Jon Snow. He’s using his mother’s maiden name I’m assuming...she passed away last year.”

“Gods. That’s awful.” Ned sighed. “And then he has Rhaegar for a father. I’m pretty sure that man got his degree from a Cracker Jack box.”

“Jon’s not fond of his father either.”

“Well, I can’t say as I blame him, and not just because I don’t like Rhaegar. Not being there for your kid is terrible.”

“I agree. So, I feel like I should tell you something about Jon…”

“What is that, honey?”

“He’s...well, he’s kind of infamous.”

Ned narrowed his eyes. “How so?”

“He has a bad reputation.”

“Can you be more specific, Sansa?”

“Well, there’s the cliche stuff - he rides a bike, he wears a leather jacket. He, um, gets detention a lot…”

“And you like this boy?” Ned sounded confused. Not that Sansa could blame him. Jon was not at all her type...if she even had a type. One had to date to have a type, didn’t they? She thought maybe Harry was her type, but then she hadn’t given him much thought the past few days either so maybe not. 

“We’re friends is all,” Sansa assured him. “And yeah, he’s a little rough around the edges and he did get expelled from his last school, but--”

“And how did he do that?” Ned asked, scowling now. 

“I’m not sure,” she lied. She hated to lie, but she told herself this was a white lie and it meant nothing. Besides, they’d ever talked about that rumor and if it was true or not. It stood to reason it could be. 

“Why did he punch that boy again?”

“Well, I went for a ride with Jon yesterday--”

“Why am I just hearing about this now? You went for a ride with Jon on his motorcycle?”

Sansa nodded. 

“Cat, get in here, please!” Ned called out, startling Sansa. 

Sansa shot her father a look of betrayal.

“Honey, I just think your mother should know what’s going on, too,” Ned said gently. 

“Isn’t that what you guys do at night in bed? Talk about us kids? You couldn’t wait?”

“Sometimes one needs back up.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. 

Cat came in, dressed in her festive fall black pajamas with a pattern of red and orange leaves at the trim. She had her fluffy white robe on. “All right, boys are in bed and Arya is on her laptop. What’s going on?”

“There’s a boy,” Ned said by way of explanation. 

Cat lit up and looked at Sansa. “Oh? Who is he?”

“Rhaegar Targaryen’s son.”

Cat’s smile dropped. “Aegon?”

“Jon Snow,” Ned sighed. “The forgotten son.”

“Forgotten?”

“Seems Rhaegar took a few tips from the deadbeat dads he’s defended and started a whole new life with a whole new family and left his old one behind,” Ned explained. 

“Oh my.”

“And now Jon goes to my school,” Sansa told her mother. 

“He was...wait for it...expelled from his former school,” Ned told Cat. “And so now this Jon Snow attends school with Sansa and they’ve become...friends?”

Sansa nodded. 

“She went on a ride with him on his motorcycle.”

Cat sat down next to her husband. “Oh, dear.”

“And, apparently, he punched a boy for her today.”

“That’s the boy that Arya was talking about?” Cat asked. 

“Seems so,” Ned replied. 

“Why did he punch a boy for you, Sansa?” Cat asked. 

“Because the boy in question said something vile and crude and Jon was, I guess, defending my honor,” Sansa explained. 

“Why did that boy say something crude to you?” Ned asked. 

“Because I went for a ride with Jon on his bike,” Sansa said with a sigh. “I go to school with toddlers, Dad. Hanging out with someone from the opposite sex somehow automatically equals we hooked up. That didn’t happen.” She was definitely not going to mention that kiss now. 

“Hooked up…” Cat murmured. “That’s not the same as hanging out, right?”

“No, hanging out means you just watched a movie or something. Hooking up means you made out,” Sansa explained. And sometimes more than just that, she thought but did not say. She was beginning to feel rather odd, standing in front of her parents talking about Jon as though giving a presentation while they sat on her bed. But then she figured why not pitch this idea of her and Jon being friends as though she was in debate class? 

“I do realize that it sounds bad,” Sansa said, “his being expelled from his previous school, and this latest infraction as well, however, you know that I am not the sort to just be friends with anyone, and least of all troublemakers. I believe most of Jon’s reputation has been exaggerated, and while you don’t like his father, keep in mind that Jon is not keen on him either. And also please remember that a child does not necessarily reflect their parents beliefs and attitudes. If they did, Arya would be much better behaved. You both know I am not the sort to give into peer pressure, nor am I impressionable or easily influenced. I have my own mind, and you both know that. You both raised me after all. I like Jon, and I think he has a lot of potential. I wouldn’t hang out with him if I thought he was just going to bring me trouble. What happened today was unfortunate, but he’s well aware that in the future should such instances happen again he is not to act so rashly on my behalf. I am not going to start wearing all leather, I am not going to change myself to fit his persona - Sandy from ‘Grease’ I am not. If at any time I find my friendship with him to be a burden, then I will end it. All I ask is that you trust my judgment going forward and remember the steadfast person I am. Thank you.”

Ned and Cat’s lips twitched. “My darling daughter,” Ned said. “Are those your closing remarks?”

Sansa nodded. “They are.”

“Well then, I have the floor now, yes?”

Sansa nodded again. “Yes.”

Ned and Cat exchanged looks, a silent conversation happening between them. Cat nodded, and Ned stood. “We do know the kind of person you are, Sansa, and that you have a good head on your shoulders. We trust your instincts, and if you deem this Jon Snow to be a good egg, then he must have merit. I would ask though, that we meet him and see the kind of person he is for ourselves.”

“Of course,” Sansa said. “Though I would remind you that we are merely friends and he will not require anything silly like cleaning your sword in front of him.”

“I am not a barbarian, Sansa,” Ned said. 

“Can you tell me when you’d like to meet him so that I may relay the date to him?”

“How about we get back to you on that,” Cat said and stood.

Sansa agreed, they both bid her goodnight, and they left. 

Heaving a sigh of relief, Sansa all but dived back onto her bed and picked up her phone. 

Jon: _When I say we celebrate, I don’t mean anything too serious, Sansa._

Then a minute later: _I didn’t freak you out, did I?_

A minute later after that: _Sansa? Did I make you uncomfortable?_

Then nothing. Sansa’s fingers flew quickly over the small keyboard and she cursed when she had to fix mistakes. _I’m sorry, Jon. I didn’t mean to make you worry. My parents came home and Arya told them about you so they wanted to talk to me._

Jon: _Thank God. And the verdict?_

Sansa: _They’d like to meet you at a to be determined date. Is that ok?_

Jon: _I like to think I can be charming when I want to be. I’ll make them love me._

Sansa: _No need to go quite that far. They just want to be sure you’re not going to corrupt me._

Jon: _Dammit. There goes my evil plan._

Sansa smiled and laughed and typed a genuine “LOL”

Jon: _I suppose that means I can’t convince you to sneak out of your house and meet me so we could celebrate the fact that you like me, huh?_

Sansa: _Why sneak out when there are enough hours in the day that require no such thing?_

Jon: _Because I’m grounded for two weeks so I can’t just go anywhere when I want now._

Sansa: _Jon, did you ever consider that if you were caught sneaking out your grounding would be extended? Best to just be on your best behavior. If you feel the need to celebrate such a silly thing such as me liking you, then you can express to me your joy when you see me next week._

It occurred to Sansa then, that he would be out for the next two days, and then there was the weekend to get through before she saw him again.

She already missed him.

And wasn’t that just stupid? She barely knew him. How could she already miss him? How could she already be thinking about how boring school was going to be without possibly seeing him in the hall, or at lunch, and then there was English…

Jon: _Will you miss me, Sansa?_

She was afraid to say yes. But she was also a terrible liar, even over text. This baring of one’s emotions was difficult for her. Even if all it consisted of was one simple word.

Here goes…

Sansa: _Yes._

Jon: _I’ll miss you too. Prepare for texts. And a hug on Monday. Okay?_

She smiled, her heart lurching with excitement yet again. _Yes._

Jon: _Goodnight, Smarty._

Sansa: _I like that one. Keep it._

Jon: _As you wish._


	7. Chapter 7

Jon wiped the sweat of his brow as he walked into the kitchen after raking the leaves from the backyard. His stepmother, Elia, was filling up a glass of water at the giant farmer’s sink. He leaned against the granite countertop while digging his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans, and thought about the cramped kitchen he and his mom had. 

His father’s kitchen was practically a football field, all white and chrome complete with a backsplash. The kitchen he and his mom had was so cramped two people in there was almost too much. Besides the size, it had needed work, too. Like a new fridge since it kept leaking water, and new countertops because the ones they had were chipped and looked more gray than white. 

While checking to see if Sansa had texted him back yet, he caught the sight of the glass of water out of the corner of his eye. Elia was handing it over. He looked at the water, and then up at her. He thought about refusing it. 

“Take it,” she said softly. 

He did, but he didn’t thank her. 

He felt a little bad about that. It wasn’t Elia’s fault that his father was a dick. Nor was it her fault his Dad had broken his mother’s heart and remarried. But he did wonder if Elia had ever asked about him, ever pushed his father to contact him. She had kids. Would she want Rhaegar to abandon them if he decided to up and leave one day? Or had she just been happy to pretend that he didn’t exist and her husband hadn’t been a deadbeat dad?

“Is someone getting your homework for you?” Elia asked. 

Jon sat down at the long farmer’s style table and and sat down, putting his back to her. “I don’t know,” he mumbled.

“Would you like me to call the school and find out if I can have them collect it for you? I can pick it up after I get Rhaenys and Aegon from school tomorrow.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said. 

“Jon,” she sighed. 

“I said it’s fine!” he barked at her. 

She stormed out of the room and Jon contemplated apologizing. Thankfully, he was saved by a text from Sansa. Just saw this now, because, you know, school. Everything is fine. I mean, yeah, people are making comments and I think there’s a rumor that we’re dating, but it’s not anything I can’t handle.

Jon’s heart gave a little lurch at the dating part. Date Sansa Stark? How was it he’d actually not thought about that? Sure he wanted to spend time with her, figure out how her mind worked and okay, yes, kiss her. But no, he somehow hadn’t thought about dating her. 

He had dated Ygritte for a while, but it was just something they’d sort of fallen into. Could he and Sansa fall into something like that, too? It stood to reason they could if they spent enough time together, and they were already dealing with people thinking they were...well, she was more than he was. 

Yet now apparently her father and his hated each other, and there was the fact that her Dad probably knew about his reputation. 

But would their parents try to keep them apart? Jon could understand if Sansa’s wanted to because, well, it wasn’t as though he’d been an upstanding citizen. He did get into trouble, his current suspension just a minor infraction out of some things he had actually done. If Sansa’s parents knew how he sold drugs or how he liked to shake cops off by racing away from them, they would in no way want to have him dating their daughter. 

Shit, Sansa wouldn’t want to date him if she knew those things, too. He no longer sold drugs, but he still did like to give cops a merry chase…

Two text came in at once, one from Sansa and one that made him groan. Ygritte. Another problem. Curious, he swiped over to her message. 

_So you’ve already got suspended. Daddy must love that._

Of course she heard about that. He was still friends with Tormund and Tormund had no doubt told her immediately after Jon had told him. 

He didn’t answer her. In fact, he deleted the message and swiped back to Sansa. 

_I am collecting your homework from all your classes. You know how I feel about academic records…I’ll stop by tomorrow and drop them all off if that’s okay?_

Jon broke out into a wide grin. How was it he hadn’t thought about dating Sansa? Wanting to spend time with someone and wanting to kiss them sounded a lot like dating. So was sex, in his experience with Ygritte, but he was pretty sure that Sansa was probably a virgin and knowing her, would not give up her virginity to just anyone. They’d have to be worthy. 

That meant he’d have to make himself worthy. 

And that meant kicking a few bad habits...practices(?). 

Ygritte sent another text. _I’m not just going to go away, Jon. I hope you know that._

Okay, that was fucking creepy. Because it was true. Ygritte wasn’t the sort to just go away quietly. Not when she wanted something she deemed hers. And Jon, in her mind, was hers. 

_Is that okay?_ Sansa asked, her message chiming through. 

_Yes_ , he replied back. _I’ll let my Dad and stepmom know. I’m sure they’ll let me see you and won’t consider it breaking my grounding considering you’re bringing me my homework._

_Okay, good. I’ll probably be to your house about 3._

Jon could not stop his smile. Could he tell her how excited he was to see her? That after just a day he missed her? And that while he’d been raking leaves he’d pictured himself in English class, sitting beside her, watching her take detailed notes? He loved the line of concentration she’d get between her brows. He loved how she’d raise her hand so straight up to answer a question like she was Supergirl or Wonder Woman about to charge into the sky.

 _That sounds great, SuperSansa_ he texted back, hoping she’d like her new nickname.

 _Oh, I like that one, too!_

He grinnned. He loved making this girl happy. _I’ll make sure to keep it in rotation then._

*********

Sansa hurried into her Habitat for Humanity Club after texting with Jon and made sure to shut her phone off. It was better to not have the distraction of hearing any further texts from him coming in. She was too tempted to look.

Upon entering the classroom, in which the chairs were set up in a half circle - which was an absolute horror for the introverted kids - she slid into an empty desk in between Harry and Jeyne. It appeared they’d been waiting on her. 

Jeyne beamed up at her and Sansa said hello to both of them. 

Harry smiled somewhat cautiously at her. “Hey.”

“What’s up?” she asked them, taking out her Habitat for Humanity notebook. “I miss anything?”

It didn’t appear she had, and she was only a few minutes late. Kids were still chatting and their teacher/club leader was writing in a notebook at his desk. 

“No,” Harry mumbled and looked down at his notebook while incessantly clicking his pen beside his ear. 

Sansa looked over at Jeyne who mouthed. “Talk to him.”

“Why?” Sansa mouthed back. 

“Just do it.”

Sansa sighed and looked over at Harry as she uncapped her pen. He wouldn’t even look at her. “You all right, Harry?”

He looked over at her and frowned. “Um, yeah, I guess.”

He looked past her and reddened and Sansa whipped her head towards Jeyne who quickly jumped up and crossed the room to Dickon Tarly, Sam’s younger brother. Also the person Jeyne had a massive crush on. 

Sansa looked back at Harry. “All right, what’s going on?”

He sighed, appearing as though he was screwing up all his nerve and asked, “Are you going out with Jon Snow?”

Sansa blinked. “No, I - we’re just friends, that’s all. Why? Is this about some rumor or something?”

Harry shook his head. “Well, see, Dickon is going to ask Jeyne to the Winter Formal.”

Sansa smiled, happy for her friend. “He is?”

Harry nodded. “And we were sort of talking about it and all…”

“Who is ‘we’?” _And were you talking about it or not, what is this ‘sort of’ crap?_ she thought. 

“Well, first Dickon and I, and then Jeyne and I just now before you came in. And we kind of came up with a plan.”

“And that plan is…?”

“That it would be fun if you and I went together with Jeyne and Dickon.”

“To the Winter Formal?”

Harry nodded. 

“What about Margaery?” Sansa asked. 

“Well, I heard that Jaime Lannister might ask her.”

Sansa’s eyes went wide. Would Cersei allow such a thing? She was known to be quite possessive over her brother. Plus, Cersei was not too keen on Sansa and Jeyne...but then it stood to reason she wasn’t exactly keen on anyone but herself. However, Sansa also knew that Margaery would be excited about this. She’d had a crush on Jaime since fifth grade. 

All three of them at the dance? All Margaery and Jeyne had talked about all summer were the dances and events they needed to go this year and all the memories they needed to make before it was all over and they went off to college. 

Sansa knew how important this was to her friends even if she wasn’t exactly excited about going with Harry. He was a decent enough guy. He was the star pitcher on the school baseball team and did well enough in school. He had admitted that he had only joined Habitat to “round out” his college applications. 

He was a good-looking guy, too - blond, blue-eyed, muscular and tall. He had that boy-next-door look, and though Sansa knew plenty of girls did drool over him, he didn’t really do anything for her. Though she had suspected for some time now that he had an interest in her. However, that could easily be taken care of, couldn't it? She would just have to make sure he knew they were going as friends. Not as a real date.

Besides, this was a confirmed date to the Winter Formal which meant so much to Margaery and Jeyne. She looked across the class to Jeyne who nodded as imperceptibly as possible. 

So, what was the issue? Why was she stalling?

Jon. She was stalling because of Jon which was the epitome of stupid considering she and Jon were just friends. She’d just told Harry as much. Sure, Jon had kissed her which did suggest maybe he was attracted to her, but…

But…what?

They were friends. Period. There was no reason to feel as though she was somehow betraying him by saying yes to Harry. It made perfectly logical sense for her to say yes to Harry: he was a sure date to the dance whereas Jon was not - she could not see him deigning to go to a school dance of all things. 

Plus, again, she and Jon were just friends, just as she and Harry were. 

It was simple. 

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll go with you, Harry. As friends, right?"

His smile faltered a bit, but he still nodded. “Great, yeah, as friends. Totally.” Then he frowned. “And you and Jon Snow are _really_ just friends?”

She nodded. “We really are. You’ve nothing to worry about.”


	8. Chapter 8

Aegon squealed as Jon flipped him upside in his arms and looked at a giggling Rhaenys, whose dark eyes shone with absolute glee. “Ray,” he said to his half-sister. “Have you seen Aegon?”

Ray nodded, slapping a hand over her mouth as she continued to giggle. She nearly fell off the rec room couch she was laughing so hard. 

“Jon, I’m right here!” Aegon shouted, laughing so hard he could barely speak. 

The doorbell rang and Elia called out, “Jon, your friend is here!”

Gently, Jon set Aegon down on the floor. 

“Which friend is it?” Aegon asked, looking up at his brother from the floor. “Is it Tormund? I like Tormund.”

“No, it’s a girl,” Jon said and straightened his clothes. 

Aegon screwed up his face in disgust. “Gross!”

“That’s not gross!” Ray admonished him. “Boys are gross, not girls.”

Aegon had a quick comment for that, but Jon didn’t stick around to hear it. He let them duke it out while he hurried down the hall to get to the front door. He stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of Sansa in the living room talking with his stepmother. 

His smile was instant. Damn, he was glad she was here. She caught sight of him, her head turning slightly in his direction and she smiled and waved as she finished saying to Elia whatever it was she was telling her. 

Jon sauntered into the living room trying to act cool despite the fact that his heart was hammering something fierce. He drank her in as she came towards her. She was dressed in jeans, a rare occurrence, black boots, and a blue sweater under a black coat that tied at her waist. Her hair was pulled back into one of her pin straight ponytails and he longed to run his hand through it. 

Elia cleared her throat and said softly, “I’ll let you two talk. It was nice to meet you, Sansa.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Targaryen, it was nice to meet you as well,” Sansa said politely with a smile. 

Elia left and Jon turned to Sansa and before she could say a word, he practically lunged at her and wrapped her up in a hug. “Hi,” he said softly. 

“H--hi,” she stuttered and he grinned over her shoulder. “How are you?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“I’m really great now that you’re here,” he said. 

She cleared her throat and pushed at him slightly.

Reluctantly, Jon let her go. Jamming his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans so he didn’t grab her again, he just grinned at her like an idiot instead. 

She went over to the nearby armchair where she had what he recognized as a stack of his books and some papers sticking out of them. She gestured to them the way one would on a game show and said, “Behold! Your homework. It should keep you busy this weekend. Your teachers wrote out everything in great detail.”

“Did they do that willingly or did you make them?”

She frowned. “Well, how can you do your homework if you don’t have precise instructions. Vague instructions are no one’s friend.”

Jon laughed. “Gods, I missed you,” he said without thinking. 

She blushed; he was sure of it. “I um, I missed you in class,” she said quickly and looked away. She bit her lip, made a face, and then looked at him. “Um, so I had a club meeting yesterday. Habitat for Humanity. We’re planning a fundraiser. They want to do a bake sale which I think is sort of lame, but somehow I ended up in charge of it--”

“Yeah, that’s a real shocker,” he said with a little laugh. He got the sense that maybe she was rather nervous, and he wondered if it was because she was in his house. 

“Sansa, do you want something to drink?” he asked at the same time she said, “Harry asked me to the winter formal and I said yes.”

Then they stopped, stared at each other and at the same time said, “What?”

Sansa shook her head and gestured to him. “Sorry, what?”

Jon shook his head. “No, no. What is this about Harry? Harry who?”

“Hardyng. Do you know him?”

“No,” he said. _But I want to punch his fucking lights out_ , he thought. 

“Nice guy if not a little boring. But he is smarter than most jocks I know which is really saying something--”

“Sansa,” Jon sighed. “Get to the part about what he asked you that you said yes to.”

She nodded. “Right. So, he asked me to the winter formal. I said yes. See, his friend Dickon asked Jeyne who has had a crush on Dickon for forever, and well, they thought it would be fun if we went as a double date thing, but I don’t really think of it as a date because I don’t think of Harry like that. I really said yes because Jeyne and Margaery--”

“You’re going as his date to the winter formal?” 

Sansa blinked. “I’m going with him, yes, but I wouldn’t call it a date.”

“Sansa, he asked you to go to something where you both have to dress up and he has to give you flowers or some such shit and buy tickets - it’s a date.”

“That’s a really black and white way to put it, Jon.”

“How would you put it then?” he asked. He was angry (and hurt), and it was kinda hard for him to hide it at this point. 

“I would put it as he and I are friends and I agreed to go to the dance with him so that Jeyne and Margaery and I would be together.”

“You couldn’t go stag and still be with them?”

“I could, but I mean - we’re all friends, Jon.” She looked a mix between exasperated and flustered. “I don’t even know why I felt I had to…” She sighed, straightened, and looked at him. “You and I are friends. Harry and I are friends.”

“Yep, we’re all just friends,” Jon drawled. 

She furrowed her brow. “Is going to the dance something you’d even be interested in?”

He snorted. “Fuck no.” That was only partially true. He wouldn’t go at all unless Sansa wanted him to go with her. But now she was going with some asshat, so what did it fucking matter? What did anything matter? “I wouldn’t go near a fucking high school dance with a ten foot pole. They’re lame. All a bunch of assholes dressed up in something they’ll never wear again, dancing like a bunch of idiots to lame music--”

“Are you saying _I’m_ an asshole?” she asked, pointing at herself. “And an idiot?”

He ignored the question. “But if I were to go, I’d ask the brunette in my history class. She’s hot.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He regretted them even more when she turned around and stormed to the front door. He watched her go and thought he should just let it happen. What did it matter? She was obviously not into him the way he was into her so it was better to just put an end to it now.

Except...except it really bothered him to watch her walk away like that. He knew why she did it and he knew he deserved it - even if he did mean everything except the bit about her being an asshole and and idiot and the brunette in history.

“Fuck,” he swore and ran after her. She was getting in her car by the time he got outside. He ran down the steps, calling her name. She looked up, narrowed her eyes, and opened her car door. 

“Sansa, stop, wait,” he said, running down the driveway to her. 

She paused, looked inside her car, and then slammed her door shut and stormed over to him. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she pointed her finger at him, her blue eyes blazing with fury and said, “ _You’re_ the asshole. I will have you know that there is nothing with wanting to be part of things. Yes, most school functions are lame, but some of them are fun if you give them half a chance. Fine, school dances don’t make it on your list of cool things to do, but excuse the fuck out of the rest of us who want to enjoy our senior year by doing cheesy as fuck things like school dances and making memories with our friends. I’ll have you know that the only dance that I really care about is prom and not at all the winter formal, but my friends really want to go and it’s nice to do things for your friends. Like bringing their homework over after they’ve suspended. I don’t even know _why_ I thought I should tell you about the dance and that Harry asked me, but I felt compelled. And instead of being mature about it you acted like an ass. Well, Jon. Fuck you.”

And then she turned to go back to her car, except Jon grabbed her arm and drew her back to him. He wrapped her up in his arms, cradling the back of her head with his hand and squeezed his eyes tight. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

“What’s happening right now?” she asked, stiff in his arms and sounding a bit disoriented. 

“I’m apologizing,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean any of it.” He pulled back and to look at her, his arms loose about her waist. “Okay, well, I meant the part about school dances being lame and people dressing up and the music--”

“Jon, land your plane.” 

“I didn’t mean the bit about assholes and idiots, well, except for Harry, and the bit about the brunette. I don’t talk to anyone but you in school.” He heaved a deep breath for courage. “And I don’t think anyone is hotter than you.”

Her breath hitched and she averted her eyes and pursed her lips together. 

“It was a knee-jerk reaction,” he said. “I...when I feel like someone is leaving me my instinct is to leave them first. I was hurt by you going with Harry and I wanted to hurt you, too. It was stupid; I know it. And I’m sorry.”

She looked at him, brows furrowed again. “I’m not leaving you, Jon. I’m not a fairweather friend. I mean, it was kind of touch and go after you spewed all that crap, but before that? When I said I was going with Harry? That wasn’t me leaving you. I’m not.” She looked at him imploringly. “Do you believe me?”

He nodded, struck with the horrible feeling that he might just cry. 

“I accept your apology. And I’m sorry I called you an asshole even if you were being one. And I’m sorry I said ‘fuck you’.”

Now he started to laugh. “It’s okay.”

“Well, I think it’s important to apologize when you do something wrong.”

He nodded slowly, watching her. “Can I tell you something right now, Sansa?”

“What’s that?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.” His gaze dropped down to her lips. “Can I?”

She licked her lips and Jon moaned. “I--yeah, I mean - okay, can you just do it because I’m kind of nervous and--”

Jon captured her lips with his mouth, tentatively at first. When she moved her lips, Jon tilted his head and set his lips against her more fully. He swiped his tongue across her bottom lip and when she opened her mouth, he kissed her a little bit harder and deeper. 

He didn’t ever want to stop. She tasted like something sugary and her lips were soft against his. She felt so good in his arms, and he pressed her closer to him. His hands went to her cheeks and he cradled her face in his hands as he kissed her. 

He didn’t have to let her go anytime soon, right? 

She broke the kiss and ducked her head. “You’re making me dizzy,” she said on a gasp. 

He smiled at how adorable she was and opted not to tell her that she’d made him hard. “That kiss? That’s why I don’t want you to go to the dance with Harry.”

She looked up at him, her expression pleading. “But Jon, I only said yes because you weren’t a sure thing--” She broke off, her eyes widening. 

He grinned. “Caught. You more than like me, Queen Sansa. You like me like me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Does Jon Snow really say such juvenile things?”

“Apparently. I mean, I’m already this close to going to a dance and all.”

“But Jon, I can’t back out on Harry now. It would be rude.”

He sighed. “Sansa.”

“I don’t…” she sighed, “like him like him. Do you believe me?”

“Because you like me like me,” he said with a grin. 

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’m done here.” She attempted to push out of his arms, but he held her fast. 

“Not yet,” he murmured. And then a car pulled in beside Sansa and Jon stiffened. He let Sansa go and sighed heavily. 

“What is it? Who’s in that car?” Sansa whispered. 

Jon narrowed his eyes at the car. “My father. You ever meet a bottom feeder before? Here’s your chance.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous piece of art was made by @annarosym on Tumblr! Isn't it beautiful?!  
> [](https://imgur.com/Fk80jGF)

Despite the fact that Jon hated his father, and her own had no respect for Rhaegar Targaryen, Sansa was raised to be polite to people. So when Rhaegar came over to them, a smile on his face, Sansa smiled back and held out her hand. “Hello, Mr. Targareyn. I’m Sansa Stark, a friend of Jon’s from school.”

Friend...friend...was that right? After they’d just kissed and admitted that they liked liked each other? Sansa didn’t know how to define it and quite frankly she didn’t know if she wanted to just yet. She was still feeling navigating her way through this development. 

“Hello, Sansa,” Rhaegar said kindly and shook her hand. His skin was warm and he had a firm grip. The way her father had described him as a snake so many times, Sansa expected Rhaeger to not only look like one, but be cold like one, too. 

He looked like a regular Dad. A bit young, she thought, to have silver hair already, but he did. His smile was warm and he was tall and muscular, but Sansa didn’t see much of him in Jon. “Jon mentioned someone was bringing his homework over for him,” Rhaegar said, as he continued smiling at Sansa. 

Someone, Sansa noted. Not a Stark, but _someone_. It was a bit amusing - did Jon fancy them to be Romeo and Juliet? She hoped not. She wasn’t going to elope with him nor was she going to kill herself over him either. 

“Yes, well, it was no trouble,” Sansa told him. 

“Does your father know you’re here, Sansa?” Rhaegar asked. 

“Dad,” Jon protested. 

Rhaegar glanced at him and then focused back on Sansa. His eyes were intense, Sansa decided. They were so blue they were almost purple, and she got the sense they missed nothing. So, that was like Jon. And that must be what partly made him such a strong opponent for her father in court. Ned Stark was sharp and it was becoming apparent that Rhaegar was, too. 

“He does,” Sansa said. 

Rhaegar grinned and laughed softly to a joke only he knew. “Would you like to come in?” he asked her. “You are welcome to stay for dinner if you’d like as a thank you for collecting Jon’s homework.”

Sansa wasn’t ready for that and she had a moments panic. She quickly recovered from it before Jon could ask her to stay, too. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t. I have plans this evening, but another time?”

“Of course,” Rhaegar said. He held out his hand and Sansa took it. They shook firmly. “It was nice to meet you, Sansa.”

“Same, Mr. Targaryen,” Sansa said. 

Rhaegar wandered off to the house and Jon looked at her with a curl to his lip. “What is it?” Sansa asked. 

“Have you fallen for his charm?” Jon asked. 

“Was that charm? I thought he was just being polite.”

“Why did he have to ask you if your father knew you were here?” he grumbled. 

“Well, they are not fans of each other, so I guess it makes sense he would ask. Probably wondering if there was the possibility for my Dad to blow a gasket.”

Jon eyed her. “Does your Dad really know?”

“Yes, I didn’t lie about that, Jon.”

“Do you lie at all? Ever?”

“I try not to. White lies are okay sometimes I think. But big lies? No.”

“Give me a Sansa Stark white lie.”

Sansa narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“I’m curious.”

“So you can decide what lies to tell me?” she asked with a laugh. 

Jon laughed, too. “No, I’m just curious. I’ve had so many people lie to me that now I just don’t know anymore how people define the big lies and the small ones.”

That Jon had been lied to so much made her sad for him. And it begged another conservation that would have her staying until dinner. So, she made a mental note to bring that one up again and said, “Well, a white lie to me is when Margaery got this sundress that she absolutely loved and asked me if I liked it. I told her I did even though I thought it was hideous.”

Jon frowned thoughtfully. “But why wouldn’t you tell her the truth?”

“Because it made her happy and it made her feel confident to wear it. My personal opinion of it didn’t mean that to someone else it didn’t look fantastic. And if it made her feel good to wear it, then really that’s all that matters.”

He nodded slowly, mulling that over. Then, “And what would you consider a big lie?”

“Saying you didn’t knock Ygritte up when you really did.”

His eyes went wide. “I didn’t!”

She smiled. “I know, Jon. I’m just giving you an example. And then,” she sighed, “ there’s a lie by omission, which is telling your Dad that someone is coming over with your homework but not telling him exactly who.”

He looked at her sheepishly. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it.”

“Maybe like my Dad he realizes that their dislike of each other has nothing to do with us.”

“You give him too much credit,” Jon muttered. “He was probably planning on pumping you for information over dinner.”

“Good thing I’m not staying then.”

“Yeah, and why is that?” he asked. “Did he make you uncomfortable?”

It was clear that Jon was determined to find something to blame on his father. “No,” she said, “He was fine. I just have a lot of stuff to do.”

“Like?”

She laughed. “Geez, you don’t need to know my every move.”

His gaze pinned her to the spot, reminding her of his father. “What if I want to? Are you doing something with Harry?”

Sansa shook her head. “No, Jon. I’m not doing anything with Harry. I’m just not ready to stay for dinner. You and I are still getting to know each other. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” he said slowly. Then he smiled. “But you do like me like me.”

She rolled her eyes. “And that is my cue to go.”

Jon laughed and she did a little too as she opened her car door. Jon caught her hand and she looked over her shoulder at him in question. 

“Can I have another kiss?” he asked softly, stroking his thumb across the back of her hand. 

Her heart fluttering, Sansa glanced at the house as she turned to face him. Jon seemed to know what she was thinking without her even saying a word. 

“Yeah, so what if they’re watching? My father no doubt saw us all cozy in each other’s arms when he pulled up. And my stepmom won’t care. My Dad can go fuck himself. Besides, you kissed me earlier already so what does it matter now?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Is that why you want to do it? To stick it to him or something? Am I a way to get back at him?”

Jon shook his head. “You and your paranoid mind. No, Sansa, this is about _us_. Not anyone else. Now will you kiss me? I’m dying for another taste of you.”

She put her hands tentatively on his shoulder and leaned in. Jon met her halfway and they shared a sweet kiss that held just a fraction of the passion of their earlier kiss. 

“I’ll text you later, Sweet Sansa,” he murmured. 

She nodded, finding speech escaping her at the moment. 

As Sansa drove away she wondered what the next step was. She didn’t know what to do. What did this mean? What happened next? What did she do? _Don’t freak out_ , she told herself. _And don’t get weird. No labels. Just let things be._

Yeah. Because that’s what she did. She just let things be.

xxxxxxxxxx

Sansa was torn between wanting to tell her friends about Jon and wanting to keep it to herself for a while. She didn’t really have any answers, and she didn’t want their penchant for getting swept away to have them dating for all the school to know by Monday morning.

She kind of just wanted to try and not over-analyze for once, even though she couldn’t seem to stop her brain from doing just that. It was a good chance for her practice mindfulness she decided. So, whenever she felt herself spiraling down the rabbit hole, she forced herself to breathe deeply and relax her body as it had a tendency to go tense. 

Arya asked her at one point if she was practicing Lamaze. Sansa shot her a dirty look and went to her room to distract herself with homework.

Jon sent her texts all weekend. Asking what she was up to, if she’d watched anything good, what kind of music did she like, and if he could pick her up on Monday. 

That had given her a panic attack. If Jon picked her up for school then didn’t that mean that things were going the way of serious? She told him no and said that she didn’t fancy a head injury before school. 

He didn’t argue, thankfully. 

She had to admit that by Monday, she was excited to see him. And nervous. She’d spent all weekend chatting with him, but she had never...felt this way before. Her stomach was full of butterflies and she felt as though she’d drank a pot of coffee even though she hadn’t touched a drop of it. 

By the time she got to school, she was working on a full body tremble. She wanted to see him, and yet she also felt this weird desire to stretch this feeling out a little longer which was absofuckinglutely crazy since she was about to crawl right out of her skin. 

What was happening to her? And how did she make it stop? Did she even want it to? 

Well, yes, on some level she did. She wanted to feel comfortable with this new feeling, but she also felt like she should savor it. Was it Jeyne or Margaery or both who went on and on about how much fun a new crush was?

Oh, God. A crush. That was just as juvenile as “like me like me”. Maybe infatuation was the better way to describe it? Or did that sound one step away from obsessed? 

Curious, she whipped out her phone in the hall near the entrance and looked up synonyms to “infatuation”. Obsession was indeed one of them. Okay, so no. Oooh, but so was fascination, which was sort of more --

“Sansa, what are you doing?”

Sansa looked up and there Jon was. He nodded to her phone. “Texting someone?”

She shook her head and slid her phone into her purse. 

“I’ve been waiting by your locker for you to show up,” he said, and stepped in closer to her. 

Her breath hitched as she looked at him. “You were?”

He nodded, a soft smile on his gorgeous face. He reached up and fingered a piece of her hair. “I’ve been dying to see you all weekend, Queen Sansa.” He frowned. “And then you just stopped inside the door and got on your phone.”

“Sorry, I - well, I was looking up a synonym for a word.”

He blinked. “A synonym?”

“Yes, you know a word or phrase that means almost or exactly the same--”

“I know what a synonym is, Sansa,” he said. “But I just - you’re kind of a nerd.”

She arched her brow. “I’m not ashamed of being smart, Jon.”

He laughed softly and got even closer to her, invaded her space entirely really. He leaned in and nuzzled the side of her face and Sansa forgot how to breathe. “Nor should you be,” he said huskily. “I find it hot.”

“You do?” she asked, now expelling that held breath in a rush. 

“You have no fucking idea. I think you could give me a lecture about the periodic table and I’d just want to kiss you until both our lips were swollen.”

Sansa shifted just slightly so she could look at him. “Really?”

“Talk nerdy to me, baby, and find out.”

She felt a giggle bubbling up inside her and couldn’t help but say, “A hydrogen bond is an electrostatic attraction between two polar groups that occurs when a hydrogen atom--”

She never got to finish for Jon had covered her mouth with his and pushed her against some lockers. Her hands went to his shoulders just as his tongue dipped inside her mouth. 

“Jesus, get a room!” someone shouted, jerking Sansa out of the haze of lust - or _infatuation_. She ripped her lips away from Jon’s and he growled and glared over his shoulder. 

Sansa could only stare at Jon, feeling a mixture of awe and fear welling up inside her. No one had ever made her block out the world like that before. As soon as she’d seen him it was as though no one and nothing else existed. 

He looked back at her and smiled, though something on her face must have showed her inner turmoil for his smile fell and his brows creased. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

She nodded quickly. “Yeah, just - well, they’re all gonna talk now.”

“As long as they don’t say anything stupid like Clegane did, we’ll be fine.”

Her worries shifted to Jon potentially punching someone again. “Don’t get suspended again,” she said sternly and pointed at him. 

He grinned, grabbed her wrist, and kissed her fingers. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

The bell rang, signaling it was time to get to homeroom. Jon sighed. “See you in English?”

She nodded and he smiled, kissed her quickly, and bounded off. 

Sansa watched him go, and then shook her head and hurried to her locker and then homeroom. She made it before the second bell just by the skin of her nose when she liked to be in homeroom right after first bell to prepare herself for the day. For that reason, she felt a bit off and she didn’t like it. 

This infatuation might be a problem.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gorgeous banner for this fic by @ddeismile [here](http://what-would-wonderwoman-do.tumblr.com/post/169905811001/ddeismile-youve-got-me-singing-like-jonsa)

Sansa tried to make sense of all the different emotions roiling inside her, and tried to remember to breathe and stay present and _not freak out_. The problem was, the more she had to tell herself not to freak out, the more she freaked out. For someone who prided herself on keeping a cool head, this presented a problem. And there was only one person to blame for it: Jon. 

Had she really made out with him in the hall? Were they now a couple? Sam asked her in first period if they were. Sansa just gaped at him and then said, rather stupidly, “I think? I guess? I don’t know?”

On her way to third period, Dickon stopped her in the hall and asked if her dating Jon was going to fuck up her going to the dance with Harry. 

“I’m still going to the dance with Harry,” Sansa told him as though he was stupid. 

“Well, you better talk to Harry then, because you told him you and Jon weren’t dating and now you clearly are.”

“I wonder how many people in this building would be dating based on a few kisses,” she retorted. 

Dickon reddened, prompting Sansa to think that he’d made out with quite a few girls he hadn’t “officially” dated. She pointed at him and said menacingly, “You hurt Jeyne and I’ll gut you like a fish.”

“You’re a little fucking scary, Stark,” Dickon said and ambled off. 

Was it wrong that she liked that?

On her way to lunch that afternoon, she then had the pleasure of running into Cersei and her cronies. 

“Making out with Jon in front of the whole school? I never thought you had it in you, Sansa,” Cersei said snidely, hands on her hips, her minions creating a type of wall in the hallway on either side of her. “From the looks of it, it was quite a kiss, too. Just how close did you two get on that ride you took with him?”

Sansa furrowed her brows. “I’m sorry, but were you _watching_ Jon and I kiss this morning?”

Cersei stiffened and had that deer-in-a-headlights look about her. Then she got angry, her default setting, and snarled, “I wasn’t watching, you idiot, but I happened to see. It was hard to miss.”

“Mm. Sure, Jan,” Sansa said sarcastically and pushed through two of her minions to get to the lunchroom. 

“Not enough for you to have one boy, but now you’ve got two?” Cersei called after her. 

Sansa stopped, while telling herself it was stupid to take the bait. She turned. “Excuse me?”

“Harry and Jon,” Cersei said smugly, a look of beaming pride on her face. “Are you going to claim just friends for Harry, too?”

“Cut to next week when she makes out with him in the hall,” one of her minions snickered. 

Sansa opened her mouth to defend herself and then decided, no, it wasn’t worth it. Not when it came to sheep. She shook her head and carried on to the lunchroom. 

Margaery waved her over, and as Sansa walked to their table, she noticed Jeyne had a crease between her brows and was pushing her food around on her plate. Sansa sat down and plopped her lunch bag on the table. “What a day. So, does everyone know I’m going to the dance with Harry?”

“Of course they do,” Margaery laughed. “You remember where you are, right?”

“And everyone knows you and Jon sucked face this morning, too,” Jeyne said. 

“That I already figured out,” Sansa muttered as she unpacked her lunch. PBJ on wheat, a banana, some cheese, and a Diet Coke. “We didn’t exactly hide it.” That, in and of itself was alarming. She was not one for PDA. Then again, she’d never had the opportunity for PDA either. 

“So, what are you guys now exactly?” Jeyne asked, looking up at her. 

Something in her tone and in the look on her face told Sansa that something was wrong. Jeyne was upset. 

“I don’t know what we are,” Sansa said as she unwrapped her sandwich. Jon would tell her there was nothing good in her lunch. The thought made her smile a little. 

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve bypassed ‘just friends’ at this point,” Margaery said with a grin. 

“Is he going to take you to the dance now?” Jeyne asked. 

“No,” Sansa replied. “I’m still going with Harry.” She took a bite of her sandwich. 

“Are you sure? Cause I heard Harry was thinking about asking someone else since you and Jon are a thing now.”

Sansa looked at her friend as she finished chewing and swallowing. “He hasn’t said anything to me.”

Jeyne shrugged. 

“Jeyne, is something bothering you?” Sansa asked, putting her sandwich down. 

“I just don’t think you should go to the dance with Jon,” Jeyne blurted out. She said them as though the words had been trapped inside her by some kind of curse and Sansa had lifted it, freeing them and saving Jeyne from having them claw at her insides to get out. 

“But I’m not going to the dance with Jon,” Sansa said. “I’m going with Harry.”

“Dickon doesn’t like him,” Jeyne continued as though Sansa hadn’t spoken. “And I’m sure Jaime won’t like him either.”

Sansa looked at Margaery and her friend nodded in confirmation. She was going with Jaime; he’d finally asked. 

“He’ll ruin our fun and the pictures,” Jeyne said. 

“How about you let Jaime speak for himself?” Margaery said nonchalantly. 

Jeyne looked at Margaery as though she’d betrayed her. “Jon has no friends in this school. None. Only Sansa. He scares everyone away. Dickon has nothing in common with him, and since Dickon, Jaime, and Harry are all friends and Dickon and Jaime are _not_ friends with Jon, it only makes sense that it stays the way it is and doesn’t change.”

“It _hasn’t_ changed,” Sansa said, irritated now. “ _Nothing_ has changed. Harry has to speak to me about this if he wants to go with someone else. I’ve already told Jon I was going with Harry and he understands. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with Jon that even if we did go to the dance together, he could not be friendly with Jaime and Dickon. Maybe it’s not him that’s the problem if they think he’d make the night miserable, but them.” 

Jeyne shook her head in disgust and bolted up from her seat. She grabbed her tray and stormed off. Sansa watched her dump her lunch in the trash and she turned back to Margaery. “What the hell?”

“She’s got a two-by-four up her ass about this fucking dance,” Margaery said with a frown. “You know who’s going to ruin it? Her, and the little script she has in her head of how it’s supposed to go.”

“Was she not pushing me Jon’s way just last week? What changed?”

“Dickon asked her to the dance and she’s become some kind of beast. Like a bridezilla without actually being a bride. She’s already started talking color schemes for our dresses. I mean…” Margaery shook her head. 

Sansa threw up her hands in exasperation. “As far as I know I’m still going with Harry. My plans have not changed. If his did, then he needs to use his words and talk to me about it.” 

“Again I ask - you do remember where you are, right?”

Sansa sighed. “Yeah, I know.” And she picked up her sandwich and took a savage bit out of it. 

“So, did you say you talked to Jon about going with Harry?”

Sansa nodded as she swallowed. “I did. I … don’t know why I felt I had to tell him, but I just did.”

Margaery grinned. “I know why. Because you like him.”

“Now you sound like him.”

Her friend laughed. “And then that kiss…”

“Yeah,” Sansa said, staring off. “That kiss.” She felt a warmth spread her just thinking about it. 

“So, what did Jon say about it? I mean, is he really okay with you going with Harry or…?”

“He’s...well, I mean he doesn’t like it, but he also understands, sort of, that Harry is just a friend and that at the time Harry asked me I was under the assumption that he and I were just friends, too.”

Margaery snorted. “I don’t think you guys are ‘just friends’ anymore.”

“But we haven’t said we’re dating or declared anything official or--”

Margaery reached across the table and put her hand over Sansa’s. “Just because you didn’t sign an ‘I’m Dating You’ contract doesn’t mean you aren’t. You felt compelled to tell him about Harry asking you to the dance and you two kissed in front of the entire school this morning. Let’s also not forget how Jon defended your honor by punching Gregor Clegane in his ugly mug. You’ve got yourself a boyfriend, Sansa.”

Sansa sighed and frowned. “Still. Until I hear it from him, I’m just going to assume that we’re friends who occasionally kiss.”

Margaery laughed. “A friends with benefits situation? That doesn’t sound like you.”

Sansa buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“I do.”

Sansa looked up. “You do?”

Margaery nodded. “My advice? Brace for impact.”

“Bloody hell,” Sansa muttered. 

Margaery nodded. “I know. Isn’t it great?”

Great. Not quite the way Sansa would describe it. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Harry Hardyng was a coward. It took Jon all of two seconds to figure that out when Jon said his name from where he’d been leaning outside the boys bathroom, just waiting for the other boy to pass by during lunch. 

The look on Harry’s face when he turned to Jon told him this was going to be easy. 

Harry was already afraid of him. He looked like he might piddle on the floor. 

Jon pushed away from the wall and came up to Harry, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “I thought maybe you and I could talk.”

Harry nodded and Jon steered him down the hall away from prying eyes. 

“Sansa tells me you asked her to the Winter Formal,” Jon said. 

“I did, but I - I only did it before I knew that you guys were-were dating. I--I asked her if you were and she said no and I asked her again and--”

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” Jon said in faux congeniality. “You sound so nervous. Why are you so nervous?”

Harry said nothing and Jon unlooped his arm and crowded Harry against some lockers. “Are you going to punch me?” Harry asked. 

“I’m not going to punch you, friend,” Jon said and reached out. Harry flinched. It was probably wrong to get such a high off that fear, but Jon did nonetheless. He adjusted the collar of Harry’s shirt though it didn’t need adjusting - it was all about seeming friendly while sending the message that he’d rip Harry’s head off and shove it up his ass if he didn’t tell Sansa they weren’t going to the dance together anymore. 

Harry went pale and cowered back against the lockers as though he hoped they’d cave in and he could slip inside one of them. 

It amused Jon that Harry was so afraid of him considering how in a fight Harry could probably match him. Based on his size alone, he could hold his own if put to the test. Instead, Harry was a wuss who was afraid of Jon. It was part of the reason why Jon didn’t mind his reputation _that_ much, and actually reveled in it a little. 

“All I want to do is have a friendly conversation,” Jon said. “We can do that, right Harry?”

Harry nodded and gulped.

“See, I didn’t know my girl wanted to go to the Winter Formal,” Jon said. 

“I’ll tell her we can’t go together,” Harry blurted out. 

Jon smiled, the sort of smile that made guys like Harry afraid. “Ah, so we understand each other then.”

Harry nodded emphatically. 

“But see, there is another problem…”

“What?”

“You see, I’m sure Sansa would be very upset if she thought I threatened you in any way. And I haven’t, have I? I mean, I didn’t tell you that I’d make sure you never pitched again if you told Sansa we had this chat, did I? Which arm is your pitching arm anyway?”

Harry’s gaze drifted to his right. 

Jon reached out and squeezed Harry’s right shoulder. “This arm, eh?”

Harry nodded. 

“Delicate thing, the body is. Full of tendons and muscles and ligaments that could get harmed…”

“I won’t tell her you threat - I mean, I won’t tell her we had this talk.”

“Will you tell anyone?”

“No, I swear I won’t.”

Jon reached out and patted the side of Harry’s face. Not hard, but not exactly gentle either. “Good, good. So you’ll tell Sansa you’ve decided to step aside?”

“I will, definitely I will.”

Jon smiled again. “I’m glad we had this talk, Harry. I’m glad we understand each other.”

“Perfectly.”

Jon patted his face again. “See you around.”


	11. Chapter 11

By last period, Sansa had been told by everyone but Harry that he wasn’t going to the dance with her anymore. She also heard that he’d asked someone else. 

By the time she blew into English, she was fuming. Jon watched her pull her notebook out of her backpack and slam it on her desk. Followed by her book and then her pen. She looked at Jon, daring him to say something to her. 

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you’re pissed about something,” he said. 

Her eyes narrowed.

He slid out from his seat and came over to her. He placed his warm gentle hand on the small of her back and leaned in. “What happened, sweet girl?” he asked in her ear and then kissed it softly. 

It kind of irked her how just that alone made her shiver. 

And took away some of her ire.

“Harry. Apparently, he’s decided to back out of going to the dance with me.”

Jon arched a brow. “And this upsets you?”

She sighed. “No, it doesn’t upset me that he doesn’t want to go with me anymore - even though I’m sure that’s just going to give Jeyne more of a reason to be all pissy with me.”

“Then…?”

“He never told me directly. He never came up to me _in person_ and said, ‘Sansa, I’ve decided to not go to the dance with you.’ Instead, I find out from _everyone_ else. I find out through rampant rumors because no one can sneeze in one end of the building without someone on the other end hearing about it.”

He started to rub her back gently in an attempt to soothe her. All it did was make her hyper aware of his hands. 

“So, did you want to go with him or--” 

“It’s the cowardice,” she said quickly and then sighed. She moved to face him and gripped his hand to stop him from touching her. When he did that, it was difficult for to think. “And the rumors.” She looked at him. “I don’t like it when people rely on others to tell me things. It’s like when Jeyne makes a post on Tumblr or Instagram or whatever the hell else she uses and I ask her how she’s doing and she says, ‘Didn’t you see my post?’ Well, no, I didn’t see it, and I shouldn’t have to rely on social media to have a conversation with you since, ya know, we’re friends and I can just _ask_ you and you can just _tell_ me.”

“Sansa, baby, calm down--”

She gripped his hand hard. “But I especially don’t like cowards who can’t face me and tell me to my face that they’ve made other arrangements. Fucking grow up and--” She furrowed her brow and looked at him. “Did you just call me baby?”

He chuckled and nodded. He kissed her cheek tenderly. “I called you that earlier, too. Do you like it?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. It sorts of makes me think of a man thinking I’m weak or something.”

Jon laughed. “My Queen, you are anything but weak.”

The corner of her mouth curved up into a grin. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

“Mr. Snow and Miss Stark, take your seats, please. The bell rang,” Mr. Seaworth said. 

Feeling her cheeks redden, Sansa practically shoved Jon away from her and slid into her seat. She heard the snickers around her and refused to look up. Instead, she busied herself with preparing to take notes. 

Jon sat behind her and flicked his pen at her hair. “After school I’m gonna take you out, okay?”

She nodded imperceptibly, but didn’t reply with words. She wasn’t quite sure spending time with Jon was the thing she needed. Time alone with Jon just brought up other feelings she was having difficulty processing and yet the pull of him was just...well, it was just too hard to resist. 

Tomorrow she would, tomorrow she would figure this all out and try to regain some control. 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

After class, Jon walked Sansa to her locker and watched while she unloaded her backpack of the books she didn’t need to take home and placed them on the bottom shelf, and then transfer books to the top shelf that she did need. She explained that she could just then put them in her backpack when they returned from the ride and wouldn’t have to think about what she needed to pack. 

He just grinned at her. 

“What?” she asked. “What’s that smile for?”

“You. You’re adorable.”

She smiled shyly. “Thanks.”

Jon was about to say something when something caught her attention and she turned her head to look down the hall. “Sansa?” he said and put his hand on her shoulder. 

She looked back at him. “Harry’s down the hall. I’m going to talk to him. Wait here?”

He nodded, his lips pursing together. He wasn’t overly worried that Harry would say something to Sansa about their chat, but there was always that possibility. 

So, when Sansa started down the hall to speak with Harry at his locker, Jon followed, keeping a distance between them, but making sure that he was in Harry’s sight line. When Harry turned after Sansa tapped him on the shoulder, he looked past her to Jon and Jon arched a brow at him. Harry looked down abruptly. 

Yeah. He was going to keep his mouth shut. 

xxxxxxxx

“Harry, I’ve heard that you don’t want to go to the dance with me anymore and you’ve already asked someone else,” Sansa said. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” Harry mumbled, looking down. 

“Can’t you even look at me?” she demanded, her temper flaring. 

He looked up at her. “I’m sorry, Sansa.”

“Yes, well, you should be,” she said tersely. 

He gulped. “Did you...did you really want to go with me?” 

She sighed. “Honestly? Not really. Maybe once upon a time I would have thought favorably on the idea of us going together, but now…” But now Jon. That’s what she was thinking, so why didn’t she just say it?

“But now Jon?” Harry supplied. 

She heaved a sigh and nodded. “However, despite that, the fact remains that you were a coward by not coming to me directly to tell me you’d changed your mind. Are you really that afraid of him?”

“No,” he said defensively. “I just...well, I just figured you probably really didn’t want to go with me after that kiss this morning, so why not just bow out?”

Sansa threw up her arms. “Did everyone see that kiss this morning?”

“I heard about it,” he said softly. “Did it really go on for ten minutes?”

Sansa glared at him. “No.”

“Sorry.”

“Whatever. Look, you should have come to me and said something instead of relying on the grapevine to tell me. It was a real cowardly thing to do, not to mention shitty. A piece of advice? In the future, be direct with someone.”

“Not all of us can be as mature as you, Sansa,” Harry said, and it was clear her advice had got his back up a bit. 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t try,” she told him. 

“Whatever, Sansa, you can get off your high horse any time now. You’re not perfect. No one is.”

“I never said I was,” she said defensively. 

“You act like you are. Yet you’re now dating a loser. So, what does that say about you?”

Sansa’s eyes narrowed. “Actually, Harry, the only loser I see here is you. You don’t know Jon.”

“Neither do you. He’s been here, what - a month? You think you’ve even scratched the surface of what he’s like? How do you know he’s not just putting on a good show to get a little something from you and then dump you as soon as he’s got it? That is his reputation after all.”

“He had a long-term girlfriend once--”

“That he got pregnant.”

“That was yet another rumor.”

“Was it? I mean, it’s easy to say when you don’t have both sides of the story, right?”

Sansa took a step back. “Okay, you know what? I’m done with you.”

“Good. Go.”

“Fuck you all day long, Harry,” she snapped and turned around, looking for Jon. He was in front of her, quite suddenly and he lifted her chin up so he could look at her. “You okay?” he asked. 

“Can we just go now, please?” she asked. 

Jon nodded and looked in the direction of Harry, glaring at him, before leading Sansa out of the building, his hand slipping into hers. 

Once outside, Sansa heard Jon mutter, “Shit” and stop on the pavement in front of the doors. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking up at him. 

“Well, well, well.” Sansa looked over to find the legendary Ygritte coming up to them. 

_And the hits just keep on coming,_ she thought.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/yUoeioF)

Sansa had already seen Ygritte once or twice out and that was only because Margaery had pointed her out. She hadn’t cared all that much at the time to really study Ygritte, but now she took the time do so. Wide-set eyes framed by long lashes and a set of sparkling blue eyes. She had long red hair that was currently a bit mussed and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and over her nose. She was tallish, on the skinny side, and wore baggy blue jeans with tears in them, a white tank top (in this chill?) a red and white unbuttoned flannel, and red Docs. 

Sansa faced the other girl and kept her expression neutral. Or should she smile? She smiled. Ygritte made a face at her. Ooookay, so no smiling then. 

“What are you doing here?” Jon asked, and he sounded rather annoyed. 

“I came to see you, obviously,” Ygritte said. “You never reply to my texts.”

“Most people would take the hint,” Jon said. 

“I’m not most people.” She now turned her attention to Sansa and looked her up and down. 

Sansa inwardly sighed. This wasn’t going to turn into some kind of cliche meeting of the new (?) and old girlfriend in which the two of them duked it out over Jon, was it? Because honestly, she just didn’t have it in her. 

“Well, she looks like a tender little morsel now, doesn’t she?” Ygritte said with a grin that bordered on maniacal. “Pop her cherry yet?”

Sansa’s mouth dropped open. Had she really just… _said that_? “Excuse me, I’m standing right here and ‘she’ has a name and it’s Sansa. And there will be no… ‘popping of cherries’ thank-you-very-much, and furthermore that is none of your business at all.”

Ygritte arched a brow and folded her arms across her chest. She nodded to Jon. “She’s got a mouth on her, doesn’t she?” She now glared at Sansa. “You might want to make her shut it.”

“No one _makes_ me do anything,” Sansa said. She pulled her hand from Jon’s and when Ygritte took a step closer to her, Sansa refused to budge. Instead, she stared at the other girl, confused as to how thing had just seemingly escalated to Ygritte being in her space and glaring at her.

“Ygritte,” Jon growled warningly. 

“Are you trying to intimidate me or something?” Sansa asked the other girl, ignoring Jon completely. Ygritte didn’t reply, but she did purposely bump into Sansa, causing Sansa to stumble back a bit. She sighed and shook her head. “I’ve officially reached my limit with crap I’m willing to put up with today.” She gestured to Jon. “He’s all yours.”

With that, she turned on heel and marched into the building. An argument could be made for stomping, but she preferred marching. 

xxxxxxx

“That’s some girl you got there, Jon,” Ygritte said with a smirk.

“What do you want?” Jon snapped. 

Ygritte narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you being such a dick? Don’t tell me you don’t have time for your old friends now that Daddy Warbucks and Princess and the Pea are in the picture?”

“We broke up, remember? My father had nothing to do with that, and neither does Sansa.”

“That’s not true. He did whisk you away to his castle, made you cut all ties with me--”

“We broke up before that.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Did you forget how you cheated on me? Did you forget how your new boyfriend was a fucking narc and got me in trouble not only with the cops but with Mance?”

“Mance wouldn’t have done anything to you,” Ygritte said with a roll of her eyes and a wave of her hand. 

“He’s killed people!” Jon hissed. 

“He wouldn’t have killed _you_. He liked you. Plus, he _loves_ me, being my father and all. He would have spared you for me.”

“That’s...not comforting somehow.”

“You’re being melodramatic.”

“You had no trouble fucking some other guy, and now you want to pretend that I was the one that broke your heart first.”

She moved closer to him and put her hands on his chest. “Let me make it up to you, baby. I can fix it, make it better--”

Jon gripped her arms and put her at arm’s length from him. “No. It’s over. Just...move on.”

Ygritte slapped him across the face. “Like you have, you son of a bitch?”

Jon stepped further away from her. “And that would be another reason why it ended.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she broke down into sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Jon sighed. “Go home, Ygritte.” He turned away from her, proud of himself for not giving into her tears. Instead, he went back into the school to hopefully catch up with Sansa. 

xxxxxxxxxxx

Sansa was just finishing up with packing up her backpack when Jon came running up to her locker. She looked up at him and then beyond him. Ygritte was nowhere in sight. She stood. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hey,” she said. She nodded past him. “Where’s Ygritte?”

“Outside maybe still? I don’t know. I don’t care.”

Sansa arched a brow. Her backpack was between them, thick with books, and creating a barrier that she felt she rather needed at the moment. Her emotions were all over the place lately and she didn’t like it. She liked it better when everything was staid and the same. All this upheaval just stressed her out. 

“I’m sorry she was such a bitch,” he said. “She has a hard time letting go…”

“Of you or in general?”

“In general. When she likes someone she considers them hers...unless of course she’s using someone for a fling.”

Sansa frowned. “Is that what happened between you two?”

“Among other things.”

“So, she cheated on you.”

“Yes.”

“And you broke up with her because of it.”

“Yes.”

“And yet she doesn’t accept it?”

“You got it in one.”

Sansa closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Is she going to start leaving me threatening notes? Slashing my tires? Stalking us if we go out?”

“I want to say no, but Ygritte has always been a little unpredictable. But it doesn’t matter, Sansa, because I won’t let her hurt you.”

“No, just my car apparently,” Sansa said bitterly. 

“I’ll handle her.”

She sighed and bent down to pick up the top strap of her backpack. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

“For what?” he asked cautiously. 

“For crazy exes. For Jeyne to be mad at me. For Harry to act like a dick all because you and I like each other - which is also why Jeyne is mad at me and I don’t…”

“Sansa--”

“I don’t even know what’s going on. I mean, do you know how hard that is for me? I like to know what’s going on. I like having the answers. I’m not a ‘go with the flow’ kind of person. I tried to be, I thought I could just let things be, ya know? Let you take the lead and tell me where things are going.”

“Don’t you know?” he asked incredulously. “I don’t go around just kissing anyone and everyone, Sansa.”

“Well, as Harry so rudely pointed out - how do I know that? There’s no denying you have a reputation, Jon.”

“I know I do, but a lot of is blown out of proportion. The orgy? The getting all those girls pregnant? All not true. We covered that.”

She nodded. “I know, I know.”

“Sansa, what’s happening between us is a classic case of boy meets girl and boy and girl like each other. They kiss. They go out and do things together. They get to know each other. That’s what’s going on.”

“That sounds like dating.”

He smiled. “It is.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip, and Jon could see the wheels turning in her head. He was a bit nervous. She sounded really close to just throwing in the towel before anything could even get really start. “What are you thinking?” he asked. 

With her brow furrowed, she looked at him. “I’m thinking a lot of things, but none that I can really pin down. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. Are any of them of the ‘Jon’s not worth it’ variety?”

“More of the I think I need this to go even slower variety. I’m not…” She looked frustrated and a little embarrassed. “I’m not one for relationships, Jon. I don’t know what I’m doing and as we established earlier I’m a girl who--”

“Likes to know what she’s doing.”

She smiled wanly. “Exactly. I think I just need for things to not so much grind to a screeching halt, but maybe we don’t make out in the halls so much as talk some more? Get to know each other some more? I have questions. A lot of questions.”

Jon braced himself. Some of those questions he wasn’t going to want to answer, but he also wasn’t going to lie to her. “Okay. You tell me now - how do you want to proceed?”

“I’m going to go home now,” she said. “I’m tired and this day was rather crappy.”

Jon tried not to let the disappointment he felt show. He nodded as though that was just fine. “Okay.”

“And perhaps tomorrow we could meet here at my locker and talk for a bit before homeroom.”

He nodded, feeling his hopes rise. “Okay.”

“I have to work tomorrow after school, so maybe we could talk on the phone tomorrow night.”

He smiled, feeling better. He’d rather spend time with her, but if she wanted to talk on the phone, then they’d talk on the phone. 

“Okay.”

She smiled now. “Can you say anything else other than that?”

He grinned. “Yeah. You said we liked each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did a very cursory reread of this...here's hoping I didn't fuck it up and add another whole backstory to Jon and Ygritte lol.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling a little rusty with this one! Here's hoping it all makes sense. I deleted a bunch of stuff yesterday and this one came thisclose to being deleted, but in the end I couldn't do it. I figured that warranted an update lol.

“Tell me about Ygritte,” Sansa said over lunch the following afternoon. Jeyne was still pissed at her and she decided that instead of dealing with her, she’d let Margaery have that job. After her craptastic day yesterday, she just had no more fucks to give at the moment.

So, while Margaery and Jeyne were inside the cafeteria, she and Jon were sitting in an empty hall together. They had wanted to go outside to eat under a tree - so very teen movie of them - but the temperature seemed to have dropped considerably in just a day. Just when Sansa had been wondering if the chilly weather would ever arrive, it had. Just in time for the Winter Formal, she supposed. 

She had a tray placed upon her crossed legs with her lunch upon it. Jon had his tray of cafeteria food on the floor next to him. He was much more interested in her carrot sticks and Ranch dressing than anything he had despite his complaints about “rabbit food” though. Sansa didn’t mind. She had him pass her a fry from his tray every once in a while. 

Jon stopped munching abruptly and swallowed. “What do you want to know?” He sounded almost afraid. 

“Everything.”

Jon sighed and tilted his head back against the wall. He groaned. “ _Everything_?”

“Yup,” she said. She wasn’t going to give any wiggle room on this. “I think I deserve to know why she hated me on sight, don’t you?”

“She would hate any girl I was interested in after her,” he muttered. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Still. I’d like to know the history there. I mean, isn’t that what people who like each other do? Talk about their past relationships? Please?”

He sighed and looked at her, and then nodded and sat up. “So, she and I went to the same school together.”

“Oh, we’re starting from the very _very_ beginning then.”

“Sansa.”

“Sorry. Continue.”

“And I liked her...fire.”

“Oh my God, did you really just say that?”

He poked her in the arm. “Do you want this story or not?”

She sighed. “I do.”

“Well, we started hanging out and I made friends with her friends and all that crap you do when you start dating. And, I kind of...well, I got into some stuff that I shouldn’t have gotten into while I was with her.”

“Such as?”

“Selling drugs.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Jon!”

“You asked, I’m telling.”

“But-- _drugs_? Why?!”

“Because I needed money. Ygritte did it, too. Her father was a dealer and she sold to kids at school and at this school too, actually. She got me into it so I could make the money for me and my Mom.”

Her expression softened to one of sadness. “Oh, Jon,” she said softly. 

He shrugged it off. “Whatever,” he groused, “don’t feel sorry for me, Sansa.”

She sighed. “So then what happened?”

“My Mom died, and while I was dealing with that and my fucking father, Ygritte fucked some guy while she was feeling, I don’t know, neglected or some shit like that. And because he wanted to be with her, he ratted me out to the cops, which in turn got me in trouble with her Dad. My Dad swooped in and had to help me out.”

“That sounds very dangerous, Jon. Having drug dealers angry with you is never a good thing.”

“It isn’t, but my Dad, see, he’s gotten assholes like Mance off before. I believe he’s gotten Mance himself off charges before. The way my Dad saw it, Mance owed him.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yes. See, I have no real proof of any of this, but you explain to me how a drug dealer like Mance who doesn’t give a shit about anyone including his own daughter, was willing to leave me alone after it was discovered I was getting drugs to sell and those drugs came from him?”

“I met your Dad and I thought he was really nice,” Sansa said thoughtfully. “I saw little evidence of the monster you’ve made him out to be. And I thought, well, my Dad just didn’t like being beaten in court, but now…”

“You do realize you can’t tell anyone about this, right?”

“I would never do that, Jon. That’s a lot of lives at stake.”

“Exactly.”

“What about the kid who ratted you out?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what happened to him. I don’t want to know.”

“What kind of drugs did you sell?”

“Ecstasy. A variety of uppers and downers, you know, prescription stuff. Nothing super heavy like cocaine or meth, but Ygritte did.”

“Uppers and downers, huh?”

“Yeah, they were big sellers. Especially to the types like you with dreams of Dorne University.”

She poked him now. “Types like me?”

“Driven and determined. The ones that don’t sleep and stay up all night on uppers. Eventually they need a downer to help them crash.”

She frowned. “Do you think you provided a service to them or something?”

“No. I mean, compared to what Ygritte was selling what I did was rather tame. I didn’t want to sell what she was selling, and being with her while she was selling and using was enough for me.”

Her mouth dropped open again. “She was _using_ , too?”

Jon laughed. “Of course she was. Her father is a big time drug dealer who sells to her classmates. Do you honestly think she has any qualms in an environment like that about using, too?”

Sansa clamped her mouth shut. “I suppose not,” she murmured. “God, I’m so naive.”

“No, you’ve just never had that kind of world touch you. That’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. A very good thing.”

“Did you make enough for you and your Mom?”

“I made a fair amount.”

“She never wondered where it was coming from?”

“She did. But I never said and we kept up the pretense that it was legit.”

Sansa licked her lips. “So, why didn’t your father just send Mance to prison?”

“Because in doing so, he would have pissed off a whole lot of people under him. In order to protect me from all of that, it was best to pull me out of school, away from Ygritte, and call in that favor.”

She nodded slowly, and after a few, placed her tray to her side. “Jon?”

“Yes, my Queen?”

“Knowing what your Dad did for you, to protect you, how can you still...I mean, he obviously loves you--”

He held up a hand. “Don’t. Please, Sansa, just don’t.”

She sighed softly and nodded. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. My father and I, we just...there’s a lot there, ok?”

“Ok.”

Sitting together, both staring off into space, shoulders touching, silence fell between them as they both contemplated it all. 

“I have one more question,” Sansa finally said. 

“Shoot.”

“Is there any more? To Ygritte, I mean, and your history. Did you love her?”

He shook his head. “I thought I did. I was devastated when I found out she cheated on me, but…”

“But?”

“She sometimes hit me,” he said so softly she had to strain to hear him. 

Sansa sucked in a sharp breath. “She hit you?” 

He looked down, his face speaking to her of shame. “Yeah. All that fire...well, it could go up like an inferno.”

“How did she hit you?”

“Just across the face, sometimes she’d punch me in the stomach.”

“She _abused_ you, Jon.”

He looked over at her, the corner of his mouth turned up into a grin. “You okay?”

“I find I’m rather pissed on your behalf. How dare she? And why did you put up with it?”

“I wasn’t going to hit her back, Sansa.”

“I’m not saying _that_ , but why did you stay with her if she hit you?”

“Because at that point, I was in too deep. When my father yanked me out of the school and out of dealing, I didn’t have to do any of it anymore. But then...I was just too enmeshed in her fucked up life and how her problems became my problems...I was depressed because of my Mom and I just couldn’t see a way out of it.”

Sansa moved so that she was facing him. “Just to be clear, though, Jon… you did want to end things with her, right?”

Jon smiled gently then as he reached out and slid a hand over her cheek, cupping it. “Yeah, sweet girl. I wanted it to be over.”

Sansa’s gaze darted to his lips and then back up to his heated gaze.

“Can I kiss you, Sansa?” he asked huskily. 

She wanted him to, but she also wanted to process all that he’d told her and take this slowly. Thankfully, the bell rang and that was the end of that. Moment gone. Sort of. 

She scrambled to her feet and Jon groaned and got to his slowly. They grabbed their trays and brought them back to the cafeteria. 

“See you in English, then?” he said softly, tucking some hair behind her ear. 

She smiled, leaned in and kissed his cheek quickly. “See you in English.”


	14. Chapter 14

“You know, it occurs to me that I never officially asked you to the Winter Formal,” Jon said a few days after their talk about his past and Ygritte. 

He was leaning against the lockers next to hers while she put the books back in her locker she didn’t need for homework. She froze with her History book halfway to the top shelf. She glanced at him and finished putting the book away. “I thought you didn’t want to go to something so…” She pulled her English and Maths books next and looked at him with her head cocked to the side and a faux thoughtful narrowing of her eyes. “What did you call it? Lame and stupid?”

He grimaced. “Yeah, well, it’s not like getting all dressed up in some suit will be my favorite thing ever, but you want to go, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, I mean...I do.”

“So I’ll go. With you. If you want to go with me that is?”

She nodded slowly, trying to be calm and cool when inside she felt all giddy and so very not _her_. No, the Winter Formal hadn’t been something she was dying to go to, but the idea of going with Jon made it somehow...different. Finding a dress with him in mind, seeing him in a suit, getting a boutineer from him...yeah, she really liked the idea the more she thought about it. 

“Are you sure?” he asked softly. “You don’t seem very excited about it. Did Harry blowing you off upset you more than you let on?”

She dropped the books into her bag and then launched herself at him, winding her arms around his neck and pecking his cheek again and again with kisses. He laughed, his hands on her hips, and turned his face to hers. She smiled, leaned in, and kissed him. 

Jon let out a sound that sounded like a little gasping moan and Sansa smiled into the kiss. She liked surprising him. 

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her arms still around his neck. 

“Tell me,” he murmured and kissed the corner of her mouth, his eyes still closed. 

“I want you to come over for dinner at my house.”

His eyes popped open and widened. He may have gulped, too. “When?”

“Does Thursday work for you? You could come over after school and we could do our homework and then stay for dinner.”

He slipped his hands off her hips and raked a hand through his hair. “I knew this day was coming. You said it was.”

She nodded. “Are you nervous?”

“I mean, a little?”

She smiled. “What happened to,” she dropped her voice, “‘I’ll make them love me’?”

“Well before it was just a kind of far off prospect, but now it’s real.” He poked her gently in the side. “Smart ass.”

She grinned. “Don’t worry; it’ll be fine. They’ll probably like meeting you so Arya can stop making it sound like you’re some ogre in the hall groping me every chance you get.”

His eyes went wide again. “How is it that I have never met this sister of yours?”

“Because she’s a freshman and she’s like a...a sprite or something. She just kind of flits here and there making trouble. People never know where she is because she somehow manages to make herself invisible.”

Jon grinned. “I’d like to meet her.”

“You’re not allowed to like her more than me.” The words were out before she could stop them. She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Did I just say that out loud?”

Jon broke into a wide smile. “You sure did, my Queen.” He pulled her back to him by her hips. “Don’t you know by now that I don’t like a lot of people, like, at all? But I like you. A _lot_.”

Sansa’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, you need friends here. We need to work on that.”

“I have friends.”

“But they’re Ygritte’s too, right?”

“I was Edd’s friend before Ygritte,” he said a bit defensively. But he’d made friends wtih Grenn and Tormund through Ygritte and in the breakup, he’d somehow kept them. However, it was obvious that Tormund could not keep any secrets from Ygritte. Grenn could. But Tormund couldn’t - he was loyal to Ygritte. And that was why he hadn’t been hanging out with the redhead as of late, not since Ygritte showed up at school. 

“But still. Don’t you want to make friends here?”

“I’m not a huge fan of people in general, so…”

“Jon.”

“Listen, woman, don’t go changing all of me.”

Her jaw dropped. “Did you just say ‘woman’?”

He held up his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She shot him a bit of a glare, but let it go. “I’m not trying to change you,” she said. “I apologize if it seems that I am attempting to do that. I shouldn’t really talk anyway when it comes to friends. My two closest friends are Margaery and Jeyne and Jeyne is all caught up in Dickon’s crowd now and seems to have dumped me.”

“Does she talk to Margaery still?”

“Yeah, but not much, and only about the dance.”

“Did you going with Harry mean that much to her?”

“Apparently? Even though she pushed me your way from the start. It’s all very odd.”

“Wait, tell me more about how she pushed you my way?”

Sansa rolled her eyes and squatted down in front of her bag to get that perfect even distribution again. 

“I’ll not stroke your ego.”

“Will you stroke something else?”

“Jon Snow!”

He laughed, holding up his hand again as she stood. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

“You’re a little bit evil, you know that?” she asked, head cocked to the side. 

He grinned. “Yeah, but you like it.”

She couldn’t argue with that. 

xxxxxxxx

“Mom, Dad, could I talk to you both?” Sansa asked as she glided into the living room where her parents were watching TV, her hands behind her back. 

Arya crept in the room at the other end and Sansa shot her a frown. Arya sat down on the arm of the loveseat. 

“Of course,” Cat said, lowering the volume of the TV with the remote. “What’s going on? Something the matter?” She sounded worried. 

“Jon and Sansa were making out in the hall after school. Alys told me so.”

“I was not making out with him,” Sansa said angrily. “I kissed him once--”

“Sansa, calm down,” Ned said. “Arya, go check on your brothers.”

“They’re just playing video games, Dad.”

“Go check again.”

Arya rolled her eyes and dragged herself off the couch and out into the hall. Sansa darted out of the living room to make sure she was actually heading down the hall to the rec room and then came back inside when she saw Arya slip into the rec room and shut the door. 

She sighed and looked at her expectant parents. “I’ve invited Jon over on Thursday for dinner. I want him to come after school and we can do homework, and then I want him to stay for dinner. Is that okay?”

Cat and Ned looked at each other and then back at her. They both nodded. 

“Do you know what he likes to eat?” Cat asked. 

“I think he’s a meat and potatoes kind of guy,” Sansa said. “He always makes fun of my lunch. Says it’s rabbit food.”

“Can’t blame him there,” Ned muttered and Cat poked him. She and Sansa both liked “rabbit food.”

“I could ask him what his favorite meal is,” Sansa offered. 

“Yes, why don’t you do that,” Cat said. 

“You, uh, you really like this boy?” Ned asked. 

“I do,” Sansa replied. “He’s asked me to the Winter Formal. I’m going with him.”

“Well, we’ll need to go shopping for a dress then, won’t we?” Cat said, smiling eagerly. 

Sansa smiled; she knew her mother would be all over that. 

“Yes, I’d really like to meet this boy my daughter has taken an interest in,” Ned said and then looked at his wife. “Time to get the hunting rifles out.”

“Dad!” Sansa exclaimed, but she was laughing. 

“I can’t wait to meet him, Sansa,” Ned said and smiled at her. 

She rushed over and kissed her Dad on the cheek and then gave her Mom a quick hug before bounding up the stairs to her bedroom. She was texting Jon a message, telling him he was in the clear for dinner and what did he like to eat when she heard a ding on her computer. She sat down at her desk and moved the mouse to clear the bubbles screensaver and saw that she had a message on Twitter. 

She clicked on it and her heart dropped when she saw that the person who had messaged her was none other than Ygritte. 

It read: _Jon is mine you stupid little cunt. Stay away from him or you’ll both regret it._

Not one for cowering or being easily intimidated by such threats, Sansa fired back a response: _I’m not in a fight with you, Ygritte. Jon has moved on; perhaps you should do the same._

And then she blocked her quickly from being able to message her. 

Her phone dinged and it was Jon, telling her wanted a full Thanksgiving dinner for his visit. Sansa shook her head and laughed and texted back, putting Ygritte’s message out of her mind in favor of texting with her sorta-maybe boyfriend.


End file.
